No One Knows
by CognacGirl-CG
Summary: **#2 in Series** Sequel to Unexpected Prospect – Immediately after returning to Los Angeles, Sydney deals with her mounting attraction to Sark and a multitude of other things thrown at her. **Last chapter up. Next part of series up, titled - Inebriety*
1. The More Things Change

Title: No One Knows

Author: CG 

Feedback: Please. 

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Nor do I own any lyrics or name brand used. 

Summary: Sequel to Unexpected Prospect  – Immediately after returning to Los Angeles, Sydney deals with her mounting attraction to Sark and a multitude of other things thrown at her.

Rating:  NC- 17

Classification: Angst/Romance

Distribution: Sarkgasm, Dark Enigma and Cover Me yes, all others please ask.

Chapter 1 - 

Everything was in the same place, no feature had been altered, but as she applied her make-up in the morning, she noticed something added, different. 

Same old black suit – today combined with light blue buttoned down shirt. 

Her mouth the same, lips slightly ruby colored, even before applying gloss. 

Face was still a bit brighter due to the week of sun in Buenos Aires, but that wasn't it. 

She should be the one to notice, and name the change. After all it had been her face for almost thirty years now. Still, after twenty minutes of perfecting her look, she couldn't put a finger on it.

Riding up the secure SD-6 elevator, Sydney realized that she had too much time to think about everything. She was grateful for an extra long break, returning to work a few days before the New Year. That sort of time off didn't happen that often. 

Day after day, she was consumed by thoughts of Sark's motives for the kiss and expensive gift, if they were ulterior or not, had been trying. Finally, she convinced herself to wait. The first interaction between them should give her an indication of what he was thinking.

When she reached the office, she stepped from the elevator, following her normal routine. Making her way to her desk, she noticed nothing had changed here either. Same old space, same old pens and a few personal items decorated her area. But she did find something that was different. As of late, an old friend she hadn't talked to for some time now. 

Head down, deeply concentrating on his laptop, Dixon didn't notice Sydney walking up behind him. "You must be the new guy, let me take a moment to introduce myself," Sydney joked.

Smiling at the sound of her voice, Dixon turned to find her, "Very funny Sydney. If that's your way of saying you missed me, then I've missed you too."

"Yes I missed you, it seems like months since I've seen you," Sydney leaned against Dixon's desk. "So how was your holiday?" 

"Excellent, I made it home on the twenty-third, so the wife was pleased," Dixon explained. "And yours? Did you get everything you wanted?"

_Did I get everything I wanted? _

That was a laughable question. Unable to elaborate, Sydney answered with her bright smile, "I did, one of the best holidays that I can remember. I'm sure you agree it was time off that was needed."

"I do," Dixon answered.

Sydney watched as Sloane walked past Dixon's desk rushing into his office, "Back to business as usual," Sydney spoke her thought aloud.

Out of habit and pure curiosity, she looked in the direction of where Sark normally sat and found it unoccupied. Strange, since he was usually present even before she arrived in the mornings. She placed her hand on Dixon's shoulder, before walking back to her desk, "We'll have to catch up later."

Same old day, in and out of meetings, Sloane speaking about something that needed to be acquired, Marshall with his quirky comments – today's was something about mating fireflies. All with no difference beside the fact Sark had been missing from the day's work. 

No one paid mention to his absence. No one seemed to notice, except her of course. Now with the clock creeping toward five o'clock, Sydney felt a bit saddened by it. 

Putting the finishing touch on one of her reports, Sydney didn't notice her father had approached her desk. "Sydney, are you leaving soon?" 

The look in his eyes informed her that he needed to have a private conversation, that he had some information. "I'll be out of here in five. Do you want to wait for me by the exit?"

Jack didn't answer, just nodded his head in agreement. She watched as he walked off, heading toward his office. 

A few minutes later, once she had completed her work, Sydney gathered her items and left to meet her father. 

Knowing the conversation couldn't be more detailed due to all the surveillance, Jack kept it relatively brief. "Did anything odd happen when you were in Buenos Aires?"

Immediately feeling a lump in her throat, afraid her father may have heard something, or worse yet read it all over her face, Sydney inquired, "Odd? What sort of odd do you mean?"

"Anything that may have stood out to you," he kept his line of questioning vague.

Walking side by side in the parking garage below the building, the two were speaking barely above a whisper. Keeping up appearances, Sydney answered, "No, nothing I can recall. Why do you ask?"

Jack looked around. "Since Sark has returned, Sloane has been opening up with more detail about SD-6 operations. For example, today the lad was upstairs all day browsing through the K-Directorate Intel they've gathered from Espinoz Technologies." Relieved that her father had no clue, she relaxed, giving him the opportunity to continue. "He had to have said or done something outstanding in order to be received by Sloane so well. Trusting that man is a mistake, he's proven to be worthy of no trust, a cold blooded killer…"

Before he could continue, the two heard screeching from a speeding car that approached them from behind. Ensuring they were both out of the way, Jack grabbed Sydney and instinctively stood in front of her. 

Not what she expected, Sydney spied the familiar Black Mercedes as it rounded the corner. Inside of course was the topic of their conversation, dressed in all black and wearing the same colored glasses. 

Sydney noticed a crooked smile come across his face as he rolled by them, slowing down until he had completely passed the two.

"…and completely reckless," Jack finished. 


	2. Out With the Old

Chapter 2 – 

She watched as he walked toward her, a slight hesitance in his first steps. The look on his face, which she could barely be seen, due to his stare being aimed at the floor, caused her to realize after weeks of waiting, things were in motion. Knowing this immediately gave her a slight pain of nervousness in her stomach. 

As he approached, Sydney placed a business smile on her face, something she was now going to have to master since it was likely they would have future interaction. Stopping within a few feet of her, and making their first eye contact, she noticed the tired, slightly swollen eyes – a change from most of their previous meetings. 

He cleared his throat, she assumed from nervousness. "So I just finished talking to Devlin," Vaughn began, his voice was quiet and at a lower octave than normal, "and have been informed that this will my last meeting with you as your handler." 

Just over three weeks ago, Sydney made the decision to go to Devlin, and had Michael Vaughn removed as her handler. It wasn't that his capabilities had diminished. Vaughn was extremely skilled, after all he was the person she once considered her guardian angel. 

It was all about her. 

In her first few meetings with Vaughn, Sydney knew that she was attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? Months went by and her attraction deepened, feelings came to fruition. Feelings that had been defined as more than just a crush when she watched him from behind closed door, submersed in all that liquid. 

Then came the sickness, she risked her life in order to ensure his health. What knocked her back to reality was the look on Alice's face as she approached Sydney in the hospital. Alice truly loved Vaughn. It was obvious she was a devoted friend, and recently reunited as his lover. 

It hurt, enough for her to make the request she had. Something she thought would never happen did. She found herself uncomfortable around him now, and that caused her crush feelings to wane. Still, this was a hard decision for her to make.

Sydney hoped she had nothing telling written on her face. Devlin told her he would be discreet when meeting with Vaughn. "I know. I met with him over an hour ago." She noticed Vaughn watching her every move, looking for some sign – good or bad. 

"I've been told your new handler, Agent Benedict will arrive shortly after we meet to go over a few things," Vaughn explained. They stood in silence, engaged in extended eye contact. Vaughn's eyes shifted as he spoke again, "Sydney, I…"

Knowing where he was going with his statement – an unnecessary apology of some sort, she interrupted him, "I guess I'll just wait for Benedict then. I'm due at the office in less than an hour." Shifting her eyes to the door, and away from Vaughn she continued, "Thank you for everything you've done Vaughn, you made my transition into the CIA a smooth one."

With that, Vaughn sighed and turned away from her, walking out the warehouse. "Have a good New Year, Agent Bristow," he said before exiting. 

"So any plans for the New Year Syd," Dixon asked as they came close to ending their business day. 

Finishing up another memo, Sydney looked up from her desk. "Francie's throwing this thing at her restaurant to celebrate its success amongst other things. So nothing major. How about you?"

"I get most of my entertainment from the work we do, so a nice quiet night at home is in order," he explained. 

For the first time since they'd returned from Buenos Aires, Sydney watched as Sark made his way through the SD-6 main floor offices. Wearing his dark blue suit with an ice blue shirt underneath, she couldn't help but follow him with her eyes. He didn't take notice of her or Dixon, just headed straight to Sloane's office.

At a whisper, Dixon started, "So why do you think he's really here?"

There were so many ways to speculate on that question, but she didn't even try. "I have no idea."

"Must have been hard for you to be alone and partially have to trust that man," Dixon said, "He's got something up his sleeve, there's no way he'd cooperate if the prize he was to be given wasn't extremely large." 

She couldn't agree more, but it seemed to be safe for everyone if the speculation was kept to a minimum. "Although his history is horrendous when it comes to business, he's very competent in his work."

Dixon looked at her with wide eyes. "Did I just hear you actually give Mr. Sark a compliment Sydney?"

"I wouldn't go that far Dixon," she fibbed. "I'm was only saying when it came to business, he was good. Well, not as good as my old partner of course," Sydney joked. 

Sark walked out of Sloane's office, heading back in their direction. "Having to place any trust in that man is a mistake," Dixon whispered. 

As if he sensed their conversation revolved around him, Sark paused while passing the two. "Agent Dixon," he greeted, "Agent Bristow." The look in his eye was strictly professional, nothing giving any hint of the same fire she was feeling throughout her body. She could almost feel the three stones she had been hiding against her skin, burning it.

"Sark," Dixon replied, as Sydney sat in silence. 

Sark looked at Sydney, who smiled at him. He ended his interruption. "Just wanted to wish you both a good New Year."

"Thank you," Sydney finally spoke, keeping with his same business tone. "You do the same."

They both watch as Sark walked toward the elevators, assumed to be leaving for the day. 


	3. In With the New

Chapter 3 – 

She had no idea why, but she halfway expected Sark to be waiting for her downstairs after work. Maybe it was some wishful thinking clouding her or maybe it seemed like something he'd do. Still she wasn't sure why she felt it, but she was prepared for any surprise this time. 

It would be a brave move, since his every step was pretty much being scrutinized by SD-6 and he was surely tailed 24/7. But there were ways around it, she knew about them. She was disappointed that he wasn't there, she had so much that she wanted to say – she figured it would just have to wait. 

No matter. It was almost the New Year, just past eleven thirty to be exact, and Sydney came to the conclusion Francie was her new role model. A party of close to one hundred friends, family and business associates, was well underway. Everything perfect, the food and music were plentiful and continuous, people seemed to be having a great time – she pulled it off famously. This year was definitely better than last. At least there was some light at the end of that proverbial tunnel. 

"So are you going to stand here all night?" Will came up behind Sydney, as she stood alone by the bar. "You didn't dress up just to be wallpaper did you Syd?" 

Sydney smiled. She did pick up a few things in Buenos Aires. Tonight she chose a knee length, red skirt with medium sized tan flowers - very similar to the dress she wore her third night with Sark, and a strappy red tank. What made it better was the good hair day. Her hair was partially swept up in a twist. Oddly, wigs were usually so much easier to work with than her own. 

Finished with her glass of champagne, the fifth tonight, she placed it on the counter. "Is that your way of asking me to dance, Will?" Sydney replied a bit flirtatiously. 

"Come on," Will took her hand to guide her to the converted dance floor, as the medium tempo jazz played. He was drunk, she was close to his equal – neither cared if the way they moved was hideous. They were having a good time. 

A few songs later, Sydney felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she faced Francie, who yelled over the music, "Hey Syd, the phone's for you – at the bar." Sydney pushed Francie to take her place as she moved through the small crowd to answer the call.  

Partially out of breath, she grabbed the phone. "Hello."

"I'm out back." 

Her heart jumped at the sound of the familiar male voice that came through the line. Didn't she just talk about being prepared for any surprise? This surprise obviously not, due to the immediate rush that had all but consumed her.  She heard the click of the disconnected call, but was almost too nervous to hang up. 

Too many thoughts spinning – Was he followed? What if someone at the party saw her? 

The temptation was too strong and she was drunk enough to give in. Before walking off, she took one last look at the floor, watching Will and Francie as they lived it up to the disco that was now blaring over the speakers. 

After finding her matching thin tan sweater, she made her way through the empty kitchen and out the back door. At first glance, she believed the barely lit alley to be empty, until she heard the scuff of a shoe against the pavement, just to her right. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, which caused her to squint as she tried to catch a first glance. 

"You seem to be having a good time," Sark noted.

Sydney started to see more than his shadow as he was leaning against the wall, one knee bent – foot placed on the structure. Very James Deanish, the thought caused her to almost giggle. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long, just enough time to watch you with Mr. Tippin," he replied. 

There was no jealousy in his voice, some men could be threatened by a woman having a man as a close friend, she still avoided the subject, "And you're sure no one followed you here." Sydney stood beside him, also leaning against the wall. 

Sark chuckled, "No guarantees, but I've been doing this for a long time and haven't fucked up yet so…"

Sydney smiled, knowing he couldn't see it in the dimness. "Right." All the questions she had to ask him were nowhere to be found, all she could think about was how he smelled. A faint scent of cologne still present, but that wasn't what she missed. It was the smell of him as a man. She became familiar with it in their closeness, and longed to become reacquainted. "So no late night trips for the New Year?"

"Normally if I had the time, I would be with close friends. But with this constant tailing, I've decided to not knowingly put them in any danger," he explained. "You're lucky, you know. You have a relatively normal life considering."

Sydney laughed at his naïve comment. "If you had known me last year, you wouldn't have made that comment. Everyone makes sacrifices when you're in my," she corrected herself, "our line of work."

"I guess," Sark answered. From inside, they could hear the music had ceased, and a loud commotion had replaced the noise. "It must be close to midnight," Sark guessed. 

Sydney stood from her leaning position, assuming he needed to go. "Pretty close I'm guessing." Sark followed her lead, also standing. 

Standing in silence, Sydney faced Sark finally able to get a good view. Completely causal in a black shirt with black leather jacket and denim, her excitement escalated as he lifted his hand to her neck, "It looks lovely on you." He placed the three stones on his fingers. 

Sydney smiled as she caught his eye, even in the darkness she could sense the blueness of them, as his gaze now was much softer than earlier that day. "It caught my eye when we were in the jewelry store," her throat tightened with each word. 

"I know," Sark lightly dropped the necklace and brought his hand to her face, brushing it with the back of his hand. Gently he traced his thumb over her lips, as he slowly brought his face down to hers. So different than their first non-newlywed couple, kiss in the hotel room, his lips barely touched hers at first. Then, as he slid his hand behind her head, entangling it in her hair, he deepened their connection by pulling her closer to him with his free hand. Just the same as the last kiss, Sydney found her knees becoming weak with each stroke of his tongue, which had finally entered her mouth. 

Able to at least move her hands this time, she traced them up his chest, feeling the hardness of his body underneath his thin sweater. Finally she rested them behind his head, twisting his curls between her fingers. Faintly, she heard the countdown coming from inside, amongst other places around them. 

Ten… nine… eight … seven… six… five… four… three… two… one…

Sark stopped the kiss and softly breathed, "Happy New Year Sydney." He placed a last small kiss on her lips and grabbed her hands as she removed them from his head. "I need to go."

Looking into his eyes, she didn't care. This was part of what she had been waiting for, anticipating a connection ever since she opened his gift on Christmas morning. She could forget about his past, his current agenda… for now. His lips were the attention she wanted from him and she got it. 

As Auld Lang Syne was blown from everyone inside the restaurant, Sydney watched Sark as he walked down the alley, finally disappearing into the darkness. 


	4. Ulterior Motives

Chapter 4 - 

"Comrade Kessar," Sloane began as a picture of the K-Directorate leader was situated on screen, "it's come to our attention that some of the information from the satellite deemed important is written in code. The translation is stored on their main server in the K-Directorate compound." 

Sloane clicked his small button, moving the picture to the next shot. "Thanks to Mr. Sark," Sloane glanced at Sark, who was casually listening, non-responsive to the small note of gratitude, "we've also discovered that there is a backup server here. An art gallery owned by the organization." 

Sydney watched her father, as he sat near the head of the table, observing and digesting Sark's every move, or lack thereof. Having no trust in the man, she was aware of how he felt receiving operational help from a man he deemed reckless, without knowing the cost. After Sydney took a quick look at Sark, whom she noted was looking impeccable in another dark blue suit, she fixated on Dixon. 

New Year's Day was difficult for her. The excitement around Sark's surprise visit and the softness of his lips as they touched hers were both high points. Bringing in the New Year with someone was comforting, made it seem as if things would be okay for another year. 

Well, that was in a normal situation, and this definitely wasn't quite standard. 

With nothing to do all day except catch the typical football game, she couldn't keep her mind off of Sark. Dixon's next to last words to her on New Year's Eve, the same as her father's – no trust should be placed in a man like Sark – still rang in her ears. The look on Dixon's face, not recognizable to anyone but her she was sure, still read true to it. They basically had no choice. Sloane wanted something that Sark had, and it looked like he didn't care how he got it. 

"Sydney," Sloane started the instruction and snapped her back to the present. "You and Dixon will be guests at a showing they're having Saturday night. Dixon will keep security occupied." Speaking directly to him, "You'll find the info you need loaded in your laptop as usual. Sydney you'll get to the back up and attach the necessary parts to give us access." 

All parties watched as Sloane walked to Sark, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Since Kessar is familiar with him, Mr. Sark will be your ears and guide to where the server is stored." 

Still watching Sloane, Sydney could that see Sark looked at her briefly before meeting eyes with Jack. With another look at her father, she could see the immediate disapproval. Being the professional that he was, he sat in silence, anxiously awaiting the end of the meeting. 

"I'll be available after you've had a chance to read through it all, in case any questions arise," Sloane exited the room. 

Knowing he wanted to speak with her alone, Sydney stayed in the conference room, browsing the new data on her laptop. She paid no attention to Sark or Dixon as they both left the room. When Jack was sure they were gone, he temporarily debugged the room. "This is getting out of control. Sark could be leading us right into an ambush, and Sloane wouldn't even blink since he's _needed_ for some reason."

"So you haven't figured out why he's here then," Sydney inquired, hoping that he had something for her. 

"I believe Sark has made some sort of deal with Sloane. The details surrounding it, I don't know. But it either has to be blackmail or a promise of business related info," Jack kept his voice just loud enough for Sydney to hear. "I've brought to Sloane's attention my concern with this and it seems to have fallen on deaf ears."

With nothing to give but sarcasm, Sydney replied, "Greed works wonders on the weak. Sloane will regret that trait someday."

"I have a feeling both men are gluttons when it comes to power. With Sark's history and the fact that he's so highly motivated, it seems to me that he would do anything—no expense spared as long as it means getting the right people to trust him, allowing him to move ahead with the Rambaldi work."

They sat in a quick moment of silence. That last comment gave Sydney a quick sting, the actions sounding too familiar

_He would do anything… no expense spared. _

Aware their time was almost up Jack continued, "Since you'll be spending some time with him, I want you to keep a watchful eye for anything you strike as unusual – even something slightly out of the op that could be considered a sign of a double cross on his part."

"Of course," Sydney began, "ever since you asked if I remember any outstanding details about his behavior in Buenos Aires I've been on alert, trying to watch Sark more closely. 

Jack looked up signaling to Sydney that there was another person in the room. She immediately stopped the conversation from continuing, but almost cringed at the sight of Sark who appeared in the corner of her eye. No speech escaped, just a short clearing of his voice. Walking to where he was previously sitting, Sydney noticed his palm pilot had been left on the table. After picking it up, Sark headed back toward the entrance, making no eye contact with either of them. 

Their time now up, Jack stood to leave. "Later," he promised before walking out. She followed, walking straight to her desk and Dixon. 

"I guess I get to see if that compliment you gave to the young Mr. Sark holds true," he said. "I would be lying if I didn't say I'm nervous about this."

Still pondering if Sark heard any of the conversation with her dad, Sydney distantly answered while watching Sark concentrating on his computer, "Me too."


	5. Objects In the Mirror

Chapter 5 - 

"My dear," Dixon spoke in his best Jamaican accent, as he was guiding her into the gallery area. She allowed him to lead and immediately scanned the room upon entering. 

With only a handful of people inside, browsing the decorated walls, and most of the security watching the door, they both figured it to be the best time they got this going – the shorter period of time in, the less chance of anyone remembering their faces. It was too bad this always had to happen so fast. The art appreciation course she loved so much always drove her to want to stay. 

"Your ex-husband seemed awfully quiet on the way here," Dixon whispered to Sydney.

Having realized that fact within the first hour of flight, Sydney made light of it. "You'll never let me live that down will you?" The entire flight was filled with Sark's silence. Sydney didn't expect him to join in their personal conversation, but the fact he never made eye contact once with either one of them was awkward. Looking now at Dixon she contemplated maybe it was just awkward to her. 

"Probably not," Dixon answered. "So what is the pen for?"

Sydney squeezed the Mont Blanc pen that Sark handed her before they went their separate ways. His words, 'In case you get in a jam, there's a small amount of pepper spray in the back of this.' She remembered almost laughing at the time, considering most professionals have had enough training to overcome such obstacles, knowing that she still took it anyway.

Still at a whisper, Sydney answered him. "In case of a jam, break pen."

Dixon nodded his head in understanding, "Ready?" Dixon cleared his throat after activating his communication device, an action that brought a voice through his earpiece.

"Got that," Sark speoke. Sydney did the same, bringing the same response. With Dixon on his way to keep security occupied, Sydney made her way to the roped off area. Easily passing, she continued her course and reached the end of the hall with two choices of direction. 

"Okay, end of the hallway," Sydney spoke at a whisper.

Taking a moment, Sark responded curtly, "Right."

She followed his instructions until she heard him speak again. "After the second wall light, left."

Finding the point, Sydney took the left, moving at a slight jog. "Coming up on another hallway," she inquired, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Hearing no response on the other end, she slowed down. Even after reaching the next crossroad, there was no answer. "Right or left?" She asked with a hint of impatience in her voice. 

Her instincts were heightened, almost telling her to take a right, but Sark started her by replying, "Right, second door on the right."

"Thought I lost you there," Sydney halfway joked, use to the banter her and Dixon had between them. 

His voice equally as cold as his demeanor all day, he ignored her. "Going radio silent until the meeting point. You're connected with Dixon if you need anything."

With no time to dwell on his coarseness, Sydney opened the door to the back-up server. In a matter of minutes she was finished with the SD-6 op and her assigned CIA counter op. As she left the secured area, she made voice contact with Dixon. "Two minutes." 

Sneaking back in, completely unnoticed she spied Dixon speaking with security about the rare antique vase he'd been pretending to buy. Sydney placed her arm in his and spoke in Russian, "No, no. The color is completely off and it looks too old." With that, she purposely dragged him off to exit the building. 

Following instructions to the tee, Sark had the large white van waiting for them two blocks up the street. When they both jumped in, Sark spoke, "I radioed ahead for the plane and was informed that maintenance found a problem with the engine. There are no other planes we can take without calling attention to our dealings, so we've been instructed to stay overnight."

"You're kidding me," Dixon said, mildly upset by the news.

Sark pulled from the curb. "I'm afraid not. Sloane himself called ahead and made reservations for us. Our plane leaves tomorrow at noon."

In the backseat, Sydney had the perfect view of Sark in the rearview mirror. She watched him until by instinct she assumed, he felt her eyes on him. Momentarily, he looked directly at her through the mirror, just long enough to send a chill through her. Something wasn't right, she could tell by the piercing stare. What was worse was that she had the gut feeling it had nothing to do with the op. 

Thank God she was always prepared. Most overnight trips didn't require much, if any, luggage since the majority of time was in flight. In her years of this, she was now accustomed to bringing a carryon with a few essentials just in case something didn't go right – like tonight. 

The twenty minutes spent in the shower helped her relax as she felt the steady stream of water beat against her bare back. In that time, she tried to clear her mind of all worry to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. In particular his eyes, wide icy blues that sparkled with what she believed to be doubt, maybe a speck of anger. 

Standing around her small, but quaint hotel room clad in only her bathrobe, Sydney re-hung the simple black dress, that she wore to the showing, back on the dry cleaner hanger, putting it away for now. Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on her door. 

After securing her robe a bit tighter, she looked through the small hole, finding a casually dressed Sark. Hesitant to open the door, she finally cracked the door about a foot. Looking directly into his eyes, she kept her demeanor cool. "Yes?"

"I was stopping by to pick up my pen," Sark explained, with no show of emotion.

Partially disappointed, but hiding it well Sydney replied, "Your pen." Her comment sounded a little sarcastic. 

He didn't respond, just stood outside her door, with his hands in the pockets of his khaki's. Sydney stepped back, opening the door as she headed toward the dresser. Just inside her formal clutch purse she located the pen. "This couldn't wait till tomorrow?" 

"That's a six-hundred dollar pen," Sark answered, showing slight annoyance. 

Sydney laughed as she handed it to him. "So money's of object to you all of a sudden." Making an obvious reference to the gift that he gave her. 

"Money's always of object, but some things are necessities," he replied coldly, while finally taking the opportunity to look her up and down.

Feeling almost naked due to his undressing her, Sydney tried to end the conversation, "A necessity as long as it means getting what you want."

"Is that so wrong," he added nonchalantly, taking the pen from her as she handed it over. After a small pause, Sark turned to exit the room. But before exiting, he stopped again with his back still turned, starting with the first punch. "I hope you don't think by fucking me you'll get any of the information you desire."

"_Excuse_ me," Sydney spoke just above her normal tone. Her voice was so bitter it caused him to turn around again. 

Before she could, he continued, "I've been in this too long to allow my judgment to get clouded after a good lay."

"Do you realize what you're calling me?" Sydney scoffed at his low opinion of her.

Sark interjected before she kept going, "Do you realize what you look like? A lesser man might fall for your seduction Agent Bristow, but I'm not that one." 

The obvious disgust in his voice, while attacking her character, hurt her more than he knew. For a moment she was silent, watching his passionate display from less than five feet away. He heard something when she was talking with her dad it was obvious to her now. There's nothing she could say, her life and the lives of many others could be in danger due to him. 

"I hope _you_ don't think by spending a week with me then buying me some ridiculously expensive necklace, that means you have an in with me, or have any idea who I am for that matter," Sydney angrily spat back. 

Sark took a step closer to her, "You're making the assumption that I care Sydney." His voice was bitter from the heated confrontation, "Caring about someone takes trust."

"And you're so trustworthy. You almost killed one of my best friends if you recall," Sydney accused.

Sark paused a minute before responding, no anger lost in his tone, "Of all people you should know the avenues business takes you."

"Right," Sydney said sarcastically. "You mean like pretending to be the wife of someone that is cold, calculating and lacking any morals. You're right. Business can be a tough thing to handle." Sydney watched as he took a few steps closer to her, causing her to automatically move backward. 

He stopped less than two feet away from her, his voice a bit more cooled, but the ice was still present in his words. "If I put in a little effort, I could have had you that last night in Buenos Aires."

"Don't be so sure of that, Sark," Sydney started. "I may have had you confused with the loving man that you had portrayed so well, but I would _never_ let you take me."

Testing her, Sark took another step forward, driving her almost a foot away from the wall. He spoke as his hand moved up to her neck, his fingertips barely caressing her skin. "I beg to differ," his voice was a little softer now. "You would have fucked me and that scares the shit out of you. You're the type of woman that lets her feelings get in the way, aren't you?" Sydney cringed as he continued to place his hand on her bare neck. "I would have been so good Sydney. Probably the best you ever had."

His hand was intrusive, so she pushed it away. "Get the fuck away from me." Afraid to scream, due to Dixon staying next door, she tried to show her seriousness with her tone.

"I don't think you want that at all," Sark whispered as he inched closer to her. "That means you'll lose the opportunity to find out my motives for siding with SD-6."

As of late, this was not about business to Sydney. Of course she kept one eye out as a precaution, but her feelings were true, actually felt by her – not manufactured to gain insight. A few nights back she wouldn't have wanted him to get away from her, that's for sure. But he was different back then, softer, caring even. This side of him was what she'd heard about and feared. A side she didn't think she'd experience so soon. With a weak voice, she made her last effort to get him away. "Why are you doing this? Just get out." Her voice was so quiet and shaky it was a wonder that he even heard her. 

She watched as his eyes changed, growing glassy, wet maybe. The change, she assumed, was from the now obvious look of fear and hurt on her face. Sydney gave up holding back the few tears that she purposely kept from falling, an action that drove him to speak with a hoarse voice. 

"Sydney..." 

His fingers quickly wiped the tears from her face, right before he cupped her face in his hand. Vigorously he lowered his mouth to cover hers. Filled with passion and many other emotions, Sydney was taken off guard by his roughness. She also found herself close to sobbing as his mouth played with hers, their tongues entangling as they searched for a deeper connection. Losing their balance, Sydney's body hit the wall, loud enough that it shook the thin structure. 

Not missing a beat, Sark wrapped his fingers in her damp hair, just at the nape of her neck. In response, Sydney wrapped her arms around him and pulled his body to her. Through his thin pants, she could feel his manhood swelling to a more hardened state on her leg. Their exchange in full motion, becoming sloppy as their fervor escalates; they were both immediately frozen by the knock at her door. 

"Sydney," Dixon called from outside, "everything okay?"

Swiftly recovering her breath she responded, "Everything's fine Dixon. I tripped over my boot, that's all."

No second thought was given to her answer. He took it for truth, "Just checking. Hey, I'm headed down to the restaurant, you still interested?"

She looked at Sark, who had dropped his hand from her hair, "Yeah. Why don't you head down and I'll join you in a few minutes."

The disturbance gone, they stood in silence only inches between them. She felt her heart pounding hard, deep in her chest. Snapping back into the moment, Sark took a few steps away from her. Looking as if he was at a loss for words, he finally spoke with a straight face, "I didn't want to." 

Iced up from what had just transpired, Sydney couldn't speak to him. All she could do was watch as he walked out the door. 


	6. Actions of a Man

Chapter 6 - 

When she walked into the quaint restaurant adjacent to the hotel, she took one last glance at her reflection in the wall mirror. Even though she told Dixon she would only be a few minutes, twenty-five had gone by since Sark's visit. 

Five of them she spent on her eyes, covering up the redness and swelling caused by the steady stream of tears that flowed after Sark left her room. Besides getting dressed, the rest of the time was spent trying to stop the shaking through her body that wouldn't cease. 

If he sought out to get to her, he did. No doubt she would not be the same after what transpired tonight. At least her initial reaction caused her to feel that way. 

But if she wasn't mistaken, she got to him too. All of his tough talk and cruelty seemed to end, with one look at her terrified, teary face. Followed by the question that was too vague to understand its true meaning. 

I didn't want to…

Kiss her? At the time it seemed that he did, but then again both of their emotions were peaked. 

Hurt her? Was his behavior in her room all a test to prove her true intentions? It could have been. Especially taking in consideration it was now obvious he overheard her telling her father she was keeping an eye on him. 

Or was it their whole interaction over the past month or so. Their time in Buenos Aires, their first kiss, the expensive gesture he sent her way, New Year's Eve… At this juncture she could understand that, finding herself wishing she had never let her feelings for him mature to this point. Even though her arms pulled him close also craving his touch, she was alarmed by Sark's ability to delve inside and torment her.

Whatever his reasons for pushing her in the corner while seething those words of disgust, it brought about a small change in her. Through her moment of weakness, she was stronger and reassured she would see her future actions toward him were smarter and hopefully less dramatic. 

Nearing Dixon's table, she forced a genuine smile on her face, "Dixon I'm so sorry I took so long."

Looking up from his menu as she sat, he spoke, "As a married man, I know what ready in a few minutes usually means. They have the club sandwich you love so much."

Sydney looked across the table at pretty much the only man that truly knew her. The way he respected her, yet challenged her when it was due. The multiple times he had saved her life, yet never doubted her abilities in work. The fact he rarely ever crossed the line into her personal life, yet considered her a friend. This was how a colleague or better yet a man should behave.

Nearly an hour later found the two still at their table, slowly finishing their meal. Dixon always had this magical way of initiating a conversation that caused her turmoil to disappear. She was even laughing a bit at the stories he was so happy to share about his family. It was always nice to hear about a "normal" one since she hers was so far from that. 

In between stories, Sydney excused herself to the restroom, "I'll be right back." With more gait in her step than earlier, she walked to the restroom area. Just as she rounded the corner, she was stopped by Sark who was rounding the same corner, but heading toward the direction she just came. She recognized the look in his eye, after witnessing it a few times. He had already consumed a few rounds of liquor. 

Within inches of each other, Sydney momentarily stared into his eyes, before breaking the contact and stepping to walk around him. 

"Sydney…" Sark started, his voice a bit demanding. Continuing to ignore him, she brushed past him until she felt his hand around her wrist. "Please," no pleading in his voice, just another demand.

Avoiding a scene, Sydney ripped her wrist from his grip. "Don't you _ever _touch me again," her voice was quiet, but filled with anger. Heart pounding wildly, she defiantly eyed him then finished her walk to the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, she cautiously exited the bathroom, looking for any sign of Sark's presence. With the coast clear, she started back to the table. When it came into view, she found Sark standing there speaking with Dixon. Slightly hesitant, she approached. 

"Sydney," Dixon noticed her return; "Mr. Sark was just arranging our departure time from the hotel tomorrow. We're thinking ten forty five?"

Avoiding all eye contact with Sark, she took her seat again, "Sounds good to me." Feeling his eyes on her, she kept hers from him.

"We're completely checked out so I'll have the car waiting out front," Sark confirmed.

"Great," Dixon spoke. Sark made his final departure from their table. When he was completely out of earshot, he continued, "Despite everything, Sark seems to be good at what he does. Not that I'm surprised since considering the source, but I guess your compliment was valid."

Drinking the rest of her wine she grunted instead of speaking. Talk about a statement she wished she could take back. Sydney had the right to be bitter, and she would take full advantage of it. "I'm a bit tired," she explained. "I think I'm going to head back now"

Cordially, she kissed Dixon on his cheek before leaving the restaurant, "Tomorrow then."

Exhausted after a trying day, Sydney walked to the elevator. As she was waiting for it to arrive, she scanned her surroundings, admiring the details of the moderately priced hotel. When she adjusted her gaze into the dimly lit bar, she spied Sark at a small table having what appeared to be an intense conversation on a cell phone. 

Staring a bit too long she was caught off guard by him, as he looked straight in her direction. Not able to look away without being obvious, she narrowed her eyes, slightly hoping to show her muscle. Quiet but his narrow brow, showing that he was still speaking with force, he stood then proceeded to the far corner of the bar, where he couldn't be seen. 

Another restless night, in and out of sleep this time instead of the almost all-nighters she had experienced prior. As a precaution, she made sure the extra lock on her door was bolted – twice. Still late that night she found herself almost wishing he would knock at her door. Give her the answers she was looking for. She even rehearsed part of what she'd say at first sight of him. 

She never got the chance though; she assumed it was probably better that way. 

The next morning as promised, Sark was waiting out front car running and ready to go. A gesture of some sort, he had purchased coffee for all. With his dark sunglasses hiding his blues, Sydney made no attempt to dissect it. 


	7. Altered View

Chapter 7 - 

"Joey's Pizza?" The question came through the phone, immediately freezing Sydney. That voice, those words, she never thought she'd hear either again. 

With her normal, "Wrong number," she started to hang up the phone.

Quickly she heard a reply, "This isn't the Joey's Pizza by the pier?" Indicating a meeting point.

"Sorry, you have the wrong number," Sydney placed the phone back on its receiver. Clueless to what he wanted, she was almost tempted to call Benedict first. Instead she decided to just bring her CIA cell, just in case. 

In the night's darkness, she walked the familiar pier. The same pier she remembered Vaughn all but voicing his feelings for her. She hadn't been back since. Really, she never felt the need to take the trip down memory lane. 

Standing at the far end, she found Vaughn leaning against the railing. A feeling of endearment was felt at first sight of him followed by a smaller, but still outstanding presence of guilt. Although she had little time to think about him lately, he was still partially with her. 

"Hi," he began, his eyes shifting nervously. Sydney smiled in return, while leaning against the rail next to him. "Sorry to call you out so late. I needed to talk to you."

Nervously she wrapped her hair behind her ear. "Talk? About what?" She had an idea about the topic, but didn't voice it. 

"I feel that I've let you down," Vaughn started.

"Let me down? Michael I've always commended your abilities to the superiors…"

He shifted his stance, "No, as a friend. As professional as we keep everything, I still feel we formed that bond."

"A friend…" Sydney felt the need to be sarcastic. After all they've been through, everything she did for him, or he did for her above and beyond the normal call, made it more than a friendship for her. Sure she'd given up those feelings when she gave up her handler. Still there was no need to trivialize it. 

"Sydney…"

Having had a rough time the past few days, mostly due to Sark and a lack of sleep, she found herself in no mood for this discussion. How dare Vaughn interrupt her night just because he needed to resolve his feelings of regret?

"Look," she began, her voice a bit harsh but direct, "I'm going to be completely honest with you. The first year I came to CIA, you were the finest handler an agent could imagine. Along with my feelings of admiration towards your abilities, and all the times you stuck your neck out for me with Kendall, I developed an adoration for you as a person." She watched as he stared at her in silence, "I thought you felt the same. You seemed to, at least, give me signs on more than one occasion, but it changed. Now that you're getting on with your life, I'm getting on with mine, and in order to do that, I can't have you around. It's just too uncomfortable." All the words she didn't want to say when she first made her plea to Devlin, just spilled from her. 

Vaughn reached out to touch her arm, but she snapped it away. "Sydney, I developed feelings, too. I meant all that I said, all that I did."

"Are you still with Alice?" Sydney asked, even though she already knew the answer. He didn't respond, confirming it. "That's what I thought. You know what, Michael? I never expected you to break up with your girlfriend just because of me. Unless you're completely over that person, it can be most foolish reason to break another's heart. What I did expect was honesty, so that I could have wasted a lot less time." Sydney stepped away to walk off. "Please don't contact me again, unless it's through Benedict." The finality of the moment prevented her from glancing back to check his reaction. 

The next morning found Sydney rejuvenated, empowered. As she was riding up the elevator, she realized the only obstacle today would be whether Sark decided to grace the SD-6 main floor with his presence. Knowing the rooms were fully monitored, it didn't worry her much. 

When she reached her level, she proceeded to her desk, but not before noticing two things. First was her father. From the corner of the room, his eyes were fixed on her with a look she couldn't describe. Second, was the special security section, the security she was only aware of due to her father, that had made what must be an unexpected appearance to the main floor. She gathered this by watching her father carefully eye the members, as they left Sloane's office. 

Sydney looked again at her father, who had completely discontinued eye contact with her. Finding this unnerving, Sydney felt an ache developing in her gut. Confirming her suspicions, Sloane made his way over to her desk. "Sydney, can I see you in my office for a minute?"

"Sure," she answered hesitantly, following him into his office. When she sat down, Sloane took his regular seat behind his desk. 

"Being employed with SD-6 has its required sacrifices. Personal privacy is one that we may give a little leeway on, unless rules are blatantly broken. Also with Ariana Kane here to investigate, we've had to put more emphasis on the small things." Sydney watched as Sloane grabbed the remote to the screen in his office, turning on a portion of what seemed to be a surveillance tape. 

With the immediate sight of the pier she visited last night, Sydney fought her immediate reaction to flee the room. No doubt security would reach her once she took one step out Sloane's office. She was stuck, trapped. Feeling most areas of her body on fire, sweating and her heart beating out of her chest, all she could do was watch the video of her meeting with Vaughn. 

Though the footage was far away and the meeting is brief, something struck her as odd. If they had known the person she was meeting with, wouldn't she had been confronted this morning like the other times she had been labeled? 

Curious, she watched Sloane as he watched the tape with her. "I want you to know Sydney, I do try to make the environment in office as pleasant as possible. My goal is for things to be healthy inside – well as healthy as it can be under our circumstances. But as you're well aware, not everything goes as planned." Now confused by the avenue of his conversation, she listened intently, still watching the brief encounter on tape, "I also want you to know I had a meeting with Sark this morning, and he ended up explaining everything." 

_Sark? What the fuck is he talking about?_

The answer to her question came with an onscreen close up of the party she had been talking to on the pier. Shocked and rendered speechless, she watched as Sark's body seamlessly replaced Vaughn's on screen. Even his actions mirrored what she remembered transpiring last night. Momentarily she forgot about the sweatiness, her fluctuating heartbeat, even Sloane, and was consumed with questions, ones that needed immediate answers. 

"Sydney, I hope if Mr. Sark asks to meet with you under the pretenses of business in the future, you'll clear it with me. Even though he's working with SD-6, there's only a certain amount of trust I would put in what he says," Sloane turned off the screen. "I'm sorry if Mr. Sark put you in an uncomfortable situation."

Doing her best to recover her missing voice, "No need to be. I'm glad SD-6 has my best interests in mind. I'll make sure to take your suggestion, if any future meetings are attempted." She stood to leave. "Thank you for showing your concern, Arvin." Overcome with her emotions, she walked through the main floor, beginning to feel dizzy and awfully nauseous – from the concern about what Sark now knew.


	8. All Details Except One

Chapter 8 - 

Talk about distractions. The business day was probably close to one of the worst she'd had in some time. Not only did she get completely sideswiped by the altered surveillance video, she was sure that her father saw it, too. That issue itself was going to require some swift, feasible answers. What was most complicated was the road she should take – honesty or blatant lies. She hated to keep things from her father, but in this case, it was probably better off if he was in the dark. 

Luckily, she didn't have to face it today. She was kept at her desk as planned until seven PM. Most of the day was spent secretly researching Sark, his residence in LA, surveillance layout, and security schedule. With Jack leaving early, she had an open exit for the day. Taking full advantage of it, she practically rushed out the building. 

From what she discovered, she had ten minutes to make her way into the building. The avoiding all the cameras wasn't going to be a problem. With a detailed layout, she found a few small holes where she could make it in unseen. Considering how sharp security was they sure did leave a good amount of information accessible – available with some work of course. 

Nearing the five-story condominium complex, Sydney purposely parked five blocks away, out of all camera views. With less than two minutes until this round of security left, Sydney watched for the license plate number she found in the system. Not having to wait long, she saw the car pull away, right on schedule. 

She took advantage of the opportunity and sprinted in the near darkness toward the building, reaching the fire escape in the rear. After climbing to the third floor, she entered through an open window then walked the rest of the way up the provided stairs. Reaching her floor destination, Sydney looked at her watch for the time. Before leaving SD-6, she timed a temporary blackout of the cameras on his floor. She had only two minutes now until they were online again. 

Her courage wavering with each second that went by, she finally brought her hand to connect with his door, knocking twice. The nervousness came with each second that he kept her waiting. She knew he was here since his car was right outside. What if he had company? She never thought of that. He could have made some sort of agreement with Sloane about physical fulfillment. 

_Stop it, that's absurd. Yet entirely possible…_

With the click of the lock, she watched the door slowly open. Taken aback, Sydney found her face red with embarrassment or maybe a hint of attraction. Wearing only a perfectly baggy pair of blue running pants with white stripes down the sides, Sark appeared from behind the door. 

Sydney couldn't help but take one look at his chest, it was the third time she saw the hardness she previously felt in the few times her body was against it. His skin appeared soft, not just from the sweat beads that glistened in the light, but also from its creamy beige color. Obviously she interrupted his workout. Bare-chested with not one hair visible, she watched as his peck slightly flexed with his arm movement. Stuck in the moment, she allowed her gaze to drift a bit lower, noticing a rippling six-pack… 

_Focus!_

She glanced back up at his face, finding his right eye a bit swollen, joined with a small cut. Sign of a struggle, definitely. 

"You know you have less than two minutes until Corgan and Smith are parked outside," Sark interrupted her thoughts. Inviting her in, Sark stepped away from the door, completely opening it. 

Trying to make light conversation Sydney joked. "It sounds like you're taking all of this in jest, at least."

"It appears that I am, doesn't it?" Sark spoke with no emotion in his voice. "Now what can I do for you, Agent Bristow."

Habitually taking in her surroundings, she looked around the large flat. Even though it had no scheme of decoration, just sprinkled with a few random decorative pieces – it was still relatively warm considering its temporary state. Could be due to the medium blue walls and taupe trim. Feeling his stare, she knew he was waiting for her to speak, an action that seemed much easier before she got here. 

"Why… how did you do it?" Sydney asked, almost stammering. "And most importantly, what do you want from me?"

Sark walked to the kitchen and the bottle of wine he had set out on the counter. "Is that all you want to know." His comment was laced with sarcasm. "Which one first, the why, how or what?" She watched him look at her and hardly recognized the look on his face…

_Is he actually going to open up to me?_

"There are other issues we need to discuss too, but you choose," Sydney replied, leaving the ball in his court. 

With what she hoped to be a friendly gesture, Sark brought her a glass. She gave him a polite smile, but quickly made it disappear. This could go either way, blackmail could be his specialty and she must be prepared for anything. She watched as he sat on the taupe – colored leather – full cushioned couch, placing his glass on a coaster sitting on a nearby table. Attempting to make her somewhat more at ease, he grabbed his white wife beater tank, covering the bulk of his chest. 

"You can sit," Sark spoke. "Be aware I will heed the last request you made at the hotel."

She obliged by taking a seat at the other end of the couch. The harshness, she remembered, coming out of her when she told him not to touch her ever again, was still fresh in her mind. What did he expect? He completely crossed the line of invasion. As she took a drink of her wine, she studied him, assuming that he must be in the process of choosing his words wisely. 

"I can tell you what you need to know, no more," Sark began. "Before I joined forces with SD-6, I linked my private system to their surveillance. This gives me the ability to search for key words in the system and find out when certain people will be watched." Sydney kept her stare, as he made eye contact with her, clearly stating that he had been watching her to a certain extent. "Since the system is almost two years old and the outside surveillance feeds take almost twenty minutes, I also have the option to freeze and manipulate them before they reach security."

"Which is how you were placed at the pier," interrupted Sydney, stating the obvious. 

Sydney watched him finish the rest of his wine in one large gulp. Showing hesitance as he stared at his empty glass, Sark cleared his throat before continuing, "Despite what you may have concluded due to my recent behavior, my dealings at SD-6 have nothing to do with you directly. I'm not out for revenge, nor do I have some sort of vendetta against you or your father that's been orchestrated by Irina. In the few times that I've worked with a team, I've always tried my best to look out for them. Especially if they emulate the abilities and passion I feel I bring to the group dynamic." Sydney tried to hide her appreciation of the compliment. "Whether you choose to accept it or not, I believe I was mislead, and found too much truth in something said that wasn't completely true or may have been said to reassure a third party. For that I do apologize." Sark looked back up at her with a look of sincerity. 

Sydney slightly smiled, softening her eyes to show her acceptance. Sark stood taking both of their glasses back to his kitchen. "I hope that answers your questions," he called from the other room.

Not fully reassured, she had to ask. "Most of them, but…" trying to phrase her question correctly she paused, "you intercepted video of me with a friend–"

"You mean your CIA contact," Sark interrupted her as he walked back in the room. Giving her the news she dreaded, he continued, "Michael Vaughn is his name, I believe."

He handed her a second glass of wine, which she gladly took. This was turning out to be the worse case scenario she had imagined earlier. "You saved my ass, needless to say. So what is it that you want?"

"Nothing," Sark replied, and then rethought his answer, "Just an answer to the one question I have."

Sydney looked at him, in fear of what he was going to ask. "You could use this information to your full advantage, and you only want me to answer a question."

He took another sip of his wine. "I believe I have made it clear that I'm not out to get you or your family, Miss Bristow."

"So, what's your question then?"

She watched as he smiled slightly, appearing to take pleasure in making her uncomfortable. "How long were you romantically involved with your handler?"

Narrowing her eyes slightly at the nature of his question, she realized she had indeed started squirming. Should she even dignify his intrusion with an answer? They seemed to be even now, after he manipulated the video for her. "You're doing this for your own amusement," Sydney stated flatly.

"Think of it as a tool used to cope with the secluded life I've been leading. You did note I was taking all of it in jest when you arrived," he playfully replied. 

Also choosing her words wisely, she somewhat opened up to him, "Technically, I never was romantically involved with Agent Vaughn. And since he was just removed as my handler, I doubt I will be in the future."

Sark didn't respond. He just watched her face, studying her reaction. After a moment, he stood. "So, since you're going to be here for a while, are you hungry? I can order out for you."

"What do you mean by "a while"? Didn't you say you had ways out of here? Some way to leave without being noticed?" Sydney did little to hide her frustration.

Sark laughed, "You did all this research to get here and didn't bother to finish? The two blokes outside, armed and surely using infrared, won't leave their post until three A.M. Even if I have access to pause the cameras, there's no way out of here without being identified until the switch, Miss Bristow." 

Her stomach sank with his answer. "Sydney. Please, just Sydney," She was normally so thorough, always paying attention to detail. Blame it on the day, she decided


	9. Lad Nar, Campy Movie and Couch Play

Chapter 9 - 

Sitting at the four-person dining room table, Sydney picked through the last few noodles of her Lad Nar. She didn't think she was that hungry, until the container was put in front of her. Inconspicuously, she averted her gaze from the television he had turned on to "keep her entertained", to the breakfast bar, where Sark had been seated for the past thirty minutes. 

On his face, she spotted the ultimate look of concentration. She could almost see it intensifying with each click of the keys on his laptop. To avoid embarrassment, she fought the giggle that had conjured in her throat. Although the work they did was serious, a look similar to the one she saw was most often observed at the office. 

Caught off guard in mid stare, Sydney watched as a steadily typing Sark, looked up from the screen, meeting her eye. Trying her hardest not to choke on her noodle, she swallowed the last bit of her food. His eyebrows rose, silently asking her if she needed something. "That cut on your face," Was all that she could say.

He didn't stop typing, just looked back down at his screen. "Your boss has an eerie tendency to want to protect you, do you know that?"

When she first viewed the slightly swollen eye, her gut told her it was Sloane. The "meeting" he had with Sark earlier that day, was more than likely an interrogation. Calling into question his intentions with SD-6, maybe even his intentions with her. 

"So what exactly did you tell him?"

He stopped typing, and then quietly sighed before starting. "You were under the assumption a meeting was orchestrated between the two of us and Agent Dixon, due to a security breech on our last mission. We were to turn in our passport information and all other documents we used while there. When you discovered it was a set-up, and that I only wanted to give you loving regards from your mother, you became upset and left."

"Oh." The only word she could let out. She was sorry that he had to be slapped around, just to keep her out of the red. But the words 'I'm sorry' sounded so meaningless, trivial in comparison to the deed. Breaking their stare, Sydney glanced at the clock, which read just past nine. "How long have you known I was CIA?" 

"Is that really pertinent information?" His reply was straightforward, with no hint of condescension or anger. "I've all but sworn myself to secrecy. That should be enough to put you at ease." 

Sydney didn't respond, almost too much information had already been exchanged between them today. Another time maybe – she secretly hoped. Finished with her meal, she discarded the container and then made her way into the living room. On the table sat the bottle of wine he opened earlier. Taking her same glass, she poured herself another.

To her surprise, Sark stopped typing again. "If you want, I have a few movies you can watch instead of the telly. The compartment under the box, if you're interested."

She knelt on the floor in front of the screen, browsing through his movies selection. Not too questionable of taste, having the normal Tarantino flick, a few of the Evil Dead's, Donnie Darko, Hellraiser…

"The Sleepaway Camp series?" Sydney did her best not to laugh.

For the first time since New Year's Eve, she watched his face become light as he cracked a half smile. Completely turned around to face her, he stood. "Don't tell me you've never seen Sleepaway Camp."

"This is probably the first time I've ever admitted it aloud, but yeah." Sydney showed off her famous wide smile. "They're the reason I didn't go to summer camp or start smoking." 

"These things will kill you, you know," Sark quoted, acknowledging her statement.

Sydney laughed at his recount, "Exactly. I can't believe you have these."

"Feel free to reminisce with another view."

She had casual friendships with men. Hell, Will was one of her best friends. In those relationships, moments like these were frequent. Down time spent watching movies, discussing music, all very innocently and strictly platonic. What struck her as odd, being here with Sark, was that it didn't feel that way at all. 

With all she knew about him and vice versa. With everything they had been through over the past month. With the way he was staring at her, that look of endearment. His eyes showing a hint of warmth – it was different, completely different. There was that spark, the one you definitely didn't feel when in the company of a friend. 

Trying not to dwell on it too long, Sydney turned her attention back to the DVD player. She smiled as she slid in the second movie of the series. 

Dreams were funny things sometimes. Most of hers were action packed, left over memories from her ops. There had been times where she had even found herself on the floor of her room, probably due to a struggle. It was refreshing when one came along that didn't leave her bruised, come the next day. 

Sitting alone against a tree, Sydney found warmth from a fully blazing campfire. Still wearing the black dress pants and fitted white button down shirt she wore to work, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest.  

Considering the campy horror movie she almost made it through, she felt relatively safe here. She was only mildly frightened when she felt the hand of an unknown person as it slid over her shoulder, then they whispered in her ear from behind. "You aren't afraid of me?"

Her eyes darted open, trying to adjust to the darkness. Temporarily forgetting where she was, Sydney took in her surroundings. Didn't take her long to remember. With the television still on, playing some obnoxious infomercial, and the feel of the leather couch that squeaked as she moved slightly, it all came back to her. The arm from her dream, she found wrapped around her, and it was attached to the tree that she had been leaning against, Sark.

With that realization, she looked around the room again for the second time. On the table in front of her, she found an alarm clock that read 2:30 A.M.

"You talk in your sleep," Sark spoke, just above a whisper.

Startled by the sound of his voice, Sydney sat up. "Sometimes." It wasn't the first time she had been told that. "What did I say?" Hoping it wasn't anything too embarrassing.

"If I'm not mistaken, it was Kumbaya."

Realizing her ponytail had to have been destroyed from sleep, she let her hair down. "Oh God," Sydney was truly mortified. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she decided to look at him. Leaning in what appeared to be an uncomfortable position, she was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry, I must have accidentally leaned against you when I fell asleep."

When Sark sat up, Sydney noticed the back of his hair tousled, causing it to stick out slightly. Remembering her own, she ran her fingers through it and tried her best to straighten any strays. 

She watched a coy smile appear on his face before he spoke, "Your hair looks fine, Sydney." Her hands froze at the sound of his voice.

_Damn his accent, and that smile. Damn his eyes, always lingering long enough – causing that uneasy feeling._

Ignoring him, she started to pull her hair back into the rubber band. Before she made it, her hand was stopped by Sark's. Gently he grabbed her wrist, causing her to let go of the gathered hair. In the moonlight that shined through the partially ajar blinds, she could see the pools of blue as his eyes studied her reaction to his touch. Silently staring at each other, Sark made his move by sliding his hand behind her neck, inserting a hand in her hair. Reactively, her eyes closed while his thumb caressed her cheek. 

When she reopened them, she was welcomed with the feel of Sark's lips softly brushing against hers. Returning the touch, she ran her hand up his chest, over his bare shoulder, and finally rested it behind his head. Kissing him back with matched tenderness, Sydney parted her lips, giving him consent to enter. Lightly, his tongue stroked hers, and as they intertwined, the kiss maintained the rhythm and tenderness that was initially present. 

After what seemed like a few minutes, Sydney slowly fell back on the couch while pulling Sark on top of her. Attempting to adjust their bodies so they kept on the couch, Sark securely wrapped his arm around Sydney's waist. 

Resting his body just above hers, Sydney felt his breath, and her own, growing uneven; triggered by the emergent intensity between them. Losing the synchronicity surrounding them previously, Sark's movements became more physical, with a hint of roughness. Playfully, he bit her lip then moved his mouth down to her neck. Taking multiple soft nibbles on her exposed skin, Sydney bit that same lip, suppressing the moan that had worked its way up. 

As she dug her fingers into the soft curls on the back of his head, Sark began to go further by unbuttoning her blouse. With each button that escaped, he brought his lips down to the flesh that was revealed, kissing it softly. First her upper chest, then between her breasts and finally down to her stomach. When he was finished, he took the same route back up to the suppleness of her lips, ravishing them again. 

Craving the feel of his skin against hers, Sydney pulled his tank up, stopping just under his shoulders. Sark removed the obstruction, and then discarded it somewhere on the floor, only losing contact with her for a brief moment. 

As he slid her blouse and bra-strap from her right side, his hand found its way to cup her partially covered breast. Stopping their kiss a second time, Sark traced more kisses down to her chest, while moving away the material that held her in. When he reached the bareness he just revealed, Sark softly placed his mouth around her firm nipple. 

Her hands still placed in his hair, Sydney was unable to contain the moan she worked so hard to keep. Stale, but still powerful, she allowed it to escape. The sound gave Sark the enticement he needed. 

After a brief nip at her breast, he went back to kissing her lips. Wanting her to feel his near full arousal, he began grinding his hips into her pelvis. At first feel of his manhood against her equally stimulated area, Sydney felt her desire for him escalate. She wanted him. There was no denying it now. 

He began rubbing harder, his swollen dick almost penetrating through her dress pants. Sydney broke the kiss as she almost lost control. Losing her breath almost completely, close to panting, she wrapped her lips around his ear, licking the outer area. Her action brought a similar moan from Sark, as he was now kissing her neck. 

Suddenly with no warning, they were interrupted by the annoying screech of the alarm clock. Both of them startled, they looked at it. Only ten minutes until the guard switch. 

"I hate those fucking things." Sark growls, still out of breath. 

He looked down at Sydney, something inside of him, kept him from talking. Instead he brought his lips to hers one last time, kissing her twice. Moving from the couch, he grabbed his stray tank, putting it back on. 

Standing in front of her, she could still see his hardness through the thin material of his running pants. No time to spare, Sydney re-buttoned her blouse and gathered the few items she brought, so she could leave.


	10. And So It Begins

Chapter 10 - 

Close to 4:00 A.M., Sydney arrived home. Doing her best to keep quiet, she entered her apartment to slowly creep to her room. She was a tad surprised when she heard Will's voice.

"Syd? Is that you?" 

Stopping in her tracks, she sighed, "Yeah Will, it's just me." Secretly she hoped that he kept the questions to a minimum. "Sorry if I woke you."

"It's okay." In the darkness, she saw Will sit up on the couch. "Everything alright?"

Oddly enough, that was the problem now. Things were all right – good, even. Well, they were until that sudden pang of guilt surfaced after Will's question. What would he do if he ever found out that not only did she have feelings for the man he despised and feared, she just returned from an intimate meeting at his house? Their friendship could rightly be destroyed. 

"I'm fine. Everything's fine," Sydney replied, near a whisper. "An old friend came to town and surprised me after work." 

"Your father stopped by," Will added, sending a quick jolt of fear through her system. "Around 8:00 or so."

Doing her best not to panic, she took a quiet, deep breath. "Did he say what he wanted?" 

Will reclined again on the couch, readjusting his comforter. "Nope. I'm not sure if it was urgent either, since his content face is so similar to his 'the shit has hit the fan' face."

Knowing the absolute truth of that statement, Sydney laughed at his joke. "Well, I'm exhausted. I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Will."

"Night Syd," Will called to her, as she walked into her room. 

When she told Will she was exhausted, it was only a half-truth. Sure she was tired, but part of her body was still tingling. Still, Sydney grabbed her nightclothes and headed to her bathroom. After changing, she stood before her mirror. First she touched her lips, and then moved her hand down to her neck, the same area Sark had been exploring over an hour before. The way his lips, and at times, his teeth nibbled on her was surreal. God, it felt good to be touched again. It seemed like it had been so long since the last time she was with a man, in any way. 

She let her hair down for the night, and then crawled into bed. Within an hour, Sydney found sleep again. Thoughts of Sark disappeared, only to resurface in her dreams. 

And so it began.

Everything that came with the start of something new, the anticipation of seeing that person as you rode up the elevator. Knowing he would more than likely be on the other side of the office once you had arrived. The ultimate jolt in the gut when he happened to walk by, looking his best in the all black suit you had grown to find indelibly sexy. Watching the curls on the back of his head, dreaming of twisting them between your fingers. The inconspicuous office glances, infrequent of course, due to the security issues around them, but very telling if you were in the know. Although they didn't speak to each other all day, Sydney was content with the fact he was visible and near. Needless to say, the day after her night with Sark was trying. 

What also began, and was equally as trying, was the betrayal of her father. 

When she arrived, he was sitting at his desk, talking on the phone. As she approached, she spied a brief look of relief wash over his face. To reassure him, she branded a soft but bright smile. Just a small hint that hopefully told him, everything was fine. Sensing the quick dart of his eyes in Sark's direction, she realized it didn't work. 

After work, as expected, Jack Bristow was in his car waiting for Sydney to go to hers. Parked next to her in the SD-6 garage, he rolled down the window of his luxury car. 

"Can we have dinner?" He asked, when she walked over. 

Unable to get a clear read on what he was thinking, she ceased the attempt. "Sure, where?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to try Francie's restaurant."

"Okay. Are we heading straight there?" Sydney asked.

Hearing the sound of footsteps drawing near, Jack began to close his window. He nodded in answer to her question. Curious to who was approaching, he turned around to find Sark, who also happened to be leaving for the day. 

Sark didn't hesitate for a moment at the sight of the Bristow's. His face washed of any emotion he briefly looked at the two, and then finished the walk to his car. Realizing she had been staring, Sydney looked back to her father. The look of intrigue on his face brought her back to reality.

Silently, she cursed at herself. She had been discreet all day, until now. 

He didn't give any hints leaning either way. He never did. Jack Bristow was the sort of man that would skip any forewarning and blurt out what he believed, in his usual blunt manner. She was waiting for it, dreading it actually. 

They made it through dinner. It was a relatively silent one, a few questions asked about her schooling, a few about her pending graduation. Then again, the restaurant was small, and any private conversation would be better held elsewhere. 

"Would you two like anything else?" Francie asked, after approaching the table. 

With a small hint of satisfaction, Jack replied, "No, thank you. Everything was just right, Francie."

Sydney watched Francie's smile. Its not everyday Jack Bristow offered a compliment. After the table was cleared and Sydney had finished her glass of wine, the ball started rolling. "I need to speak with you. Outside." 

Preparing to leave, Sydney stood. She found Francie near the bar, and offered her friend a hug before saying goodbye. Slowly, she followed her father, slightly panicking over the topic of their upcoming conversation. Only when they reach his car, did he speak. 

"I stopped by your house last night." She watched as he carefully eyed her. "I was hoping to talk to you about the video."

Sydney kept her body from shifting, although she was very uncomfortable. "Will told me. I'm sure you've read or have at least heard what happened."

Jack ignored her, "I waited outside your house until midnight, Sydney."

Not missing a beat, she replied, "I was out with a friend from college, who came back to town for a week." Sydney narrowed her eyes at him, making it believable. "I wasn't aware that I needed to give you my schedule."

"I was just a little concerned," Jack backtracked. "When a man, such as Mr. Sark, is calling late night meetings with my daughter, I should have that right."

Sydney sighed, trying her best to keep up the front. "As I told Sloane, I appreciate the fact that SD-6, and you, want to look out for me. But as you're well aware, I'm a grown woman, and more than capable of handling a late night meeting with Mr. Sark. Even if it was a set-up to talk about my mother."

Satisfied with her behavior and answers, he laid off a little. "I understand that." Jack paused to phrase his words correctly. "But I don't think Sark's interests in you are related to your mother."

Her voice almost got caught in her throat, "What do you mean?"

Jack shifted, showing he was uncomfortable. "I think Mr. Sark has developed a crush on you." 

Taken aback momentarily, Sydney recovered quickly. "That's ridiculous."

"Do you realize he's asked Sloane to have you accompany him on another mission?"

Sydney didn't need to fake the shocked look that took her. The news of a new mission with Sark was completely unexpected. "What? Alone?" Oddly enough, the thought of another mission alone with Sark made Sydney uneasy. Now that she had been somewhat intimate with him, can she, or even he do their jobs as professionally? 

"He's also requested the help of Dixon, as part of your eyes, and Ray Hinkey as the getaway driver."

Partially relieved, Sydney sarcastically replied, "I'm failing to see how this proves that anyone has a crush on me."

Silent for a moment, Jack opened the door to his vehicle. "I have this feeling, Sydney. One that is usually dead on. You should probably talk to Vaughn soon, tell him about the details after you've been briefed."

_Damn CIA. Considering their objective, their lack of communication is astounding._

"Vaughn is no longer my handler." Sydney stated, matter-of-factly. She watched her father's face turn curious, but thankfully he didn't question her. "I will tell Benedict, as soon as I've met with Sloane." As he drove away, Sydney smiled, just to reassure him things were fine.


	11. The Things We Do

Chapter 11 - 

The familiar smell of metal, the last scent she ever thought she'd correlate with this woman, took over her senses momentarily. In the months she had been doing this same routine, she became accustomed to it. Now it only took less than a minute to adapt to the staleness of seclusion. She listened to the only sound ringing out, the click of her heels, as she walked across the marble like floor. 

Sydney remembered walking this heavily guarded hallway for the first time, just like it was yesterday. The range of emotions she felt that day; anticipation, fear, sadness, love, hatred, and most of all, confusion. Sometimes she was surprised on how much that had changed, in such a short amount of time. 

When the bars moved out of her way, allowing enough time for her to pass, she realized the feeling of content she held in regard to the situation. She could allow it, but that could partially be due to the fact that her mother was now behind bars, and pretty much powerless when it came to harming her. 

As she approached the glass between them, Sydney allowed herself to smile. A quick action that could lead Irina to think she missed her. Sydney didn't take the time to consider that maybe her feelings _had_ been upgraded from merely content, raised to something more. 

"Sloane claims he's found another way for SD-6 to gain access to The Echelon. A backup Cuvee has hidden," Sydney began. 

Irina placed her hand on the glass, watching Sydney in the meticulous way she was famous for. "Has he?" she questioned, obviously surprised. 

"I need to know the likely hood of it being a fact, and any information you have on Cuvee's lair in Prague."

Sydney watched her mother, the look on her face hinted that she didn't hear one word of her last sentence. 

"You had Vaughn removed as your handler." Her comment verified she wasn't listening. 

Sydney stared at Irina, slightly shaking her head in disbelief. Vaughn's name had been haunting her lately, and it was driving her completely batty. 

"Cuvee, Prague?" Sydney showed her annoyance. 

Irina walked to the chair the CIA graciously left in her cell, taking her time to sit. "It's more than possible," she replied. 

"Okay, how about information on the building Cuvee owns in Prague?" Still irked by her tendency to take their conversations off topic, Sydney did little to hide it. Another quid pro quo could push her over the edge. 

Irina's silence was deafening, or it could be the fact that Sydney felt completely on display. Either way she almost jumped when her mother spoke. "Will Sark be joining you?" 

Caught entirely off guard, Sydney felt her stomach flinch uncontrollably at the sound of his name. Even though the question seemed innocent, it was odd that it was even asked. Then again, maybe she took it as odd, due to Sark being too fresh in her mind. 

She wasn't obvious about her momentary freak out, but her silence must have sparked something as she watched as her mother's face grew curious. Knowing that, Sydney attempted to recover. "There will be four of us there, including Mr. Sark." 

"I'm surprised Slone didn't send Sark with you the first time around," Irina noted. "If there is anyone besides myself that can gain you access in Prague, it's him." She brought her knee up to her chest, hugging it with one arm. "You made a wise decision."

Confused by her last statement, Sydney inquired, "On what?"

"Having Agent Vaughn removed as your handler," Irina explained. "Matters of the heart should be kept out of business."

Offended by her analysis, Sydney spat back, "Unless your entire motive for business, is to gain access to matters of the heart. Isn't that what you mean?" Noting her almost undue harshness, Sydney made her exit. "Thanks for the information." She turned to walk to the secured door. 

The fourteen-hour flight was normally not that bad, usually just a little tiring. That was if she had been traveling alone. The choice on partners was Sloane's she's sure, from their recent conversation about the pier incident, he wouldn't allow Sark to be alone with her. Dixon was the better choice to accompany him. His authoritative attitude toward Sark would fit the situation just right. Which left Hinkey…

Ray Hinkey, one of the most recent inductions to SD-6, joining only two months ago. Relatively young at twenty-three, one look at him would never lead on what sort of business he was in. But don't let the short amount of time on the job, or his age and appearance, deter from the recognition he deserved. An accomplished driver, with a brief stint on the circuit, he was capable of eluding a tail like no other. Proving successful even driving an industrial sized truck. When it came to quick getaways, he was the one to call. 

When it came to swiftness, tact or couth? Don't even bother. 

Brother and sister as their aliases, they fit the dysfunctional sort to the tee. There was no need to alter his appearance either. His mussed up, gel-saturated black hair, which had a slight blue tint in the right light, proved the perfect combination to her now long, straight black hair. Granted her look was more mod looking, compared to his ultra Goth cover. It wasn't his look that was disturbing though.

When they first met up at the airport, she was greeted by a major ogling session. Sure her leather tank did ride a bit low, enhancing her cleavage, but there was no need for the comment he made loud enough to bring unwanted attention to them. 

"Damn you look hot. Too bad you're my fucking sister." 

Nor was there any need to be blaring the heavy metal tunes, through his headphones. It was an annoyance to anyone within five feet. His behavior was disreputable, but from what Sark believed, he was needed. With one last glance at her watch, Sydney tried to rush the next three hours along by getting some sleep. 

Just in time for the landing, she woke. She immediately noticed her "brother" had also fallen asleep, with his music still blaring. She fumbled for a second with his MP3 player, but finally ended up powering it off. Not surprised, Sydney watched as he jumped out of his seat, right as the music disappeared. He looked at her, for a moment confused.

Sydney dryly spoke, "We're here."


	12. Master of Surprises and Other Things

Chapter 12 - 

Due to their early arrival, there was some unusual downtime. With a little less than five hours at her disposal, Sydney was eager to take advantage of it. First, of course, she ensured Hinkey followed through with his prep work. 

Along with his SD-6 issued, detailed street map, she made a quick stop at the tourist center in Staromestské Námestí, to pick up a few pieces of general info. After that, she sent him, and his 2003 Mercedes-Benz G500, on their way. He had planned to use that time to become acquainted with the updated navigation system, and the landscape surrounding the immediate area of Cuvee's building. For the sake of everyone involved, Sydney could only hope he followed through with it. 

Although she checked in with Dixon, she couldn't find the nerve to call Sark, it just didn't seem right yet. They discussed the meeting point and time again, just to ensure everything would be executed properly. Dixon didn't give any details, but did inform her that he was on the other side of the city, having a bite to eat. Part of her wanted to ask if he was alone, but decided against that too. 

Finally, she was on her own. Dressed to fit the weather, 37 degrees Fahrenheit – which really felt closer to 29 degrees in her opinion – her thick cream-colored down jacket and its faux fur hood, kept her body fairly tepid. The Old Town was somewhat crowded for a weekday, people dressed in similar garb, hurriedly walking to reach their various destinations. Or maybe just doing what they could to keep the blood running through their bodies. That could've been normal traffic for the area though, she wouldn't really know, considering she'd rarely had the chance to browse the city in her previous trips. 

Unlike the locals, Sydney took her time walking through one of the most culturally rich areas of the city. Part of it was spent admiring the rows of similar buildings, so old in their architecture, yet timeless in their appearance. But after spending the most amount of time getting lost in the trinkets of the surrounding shops, Sydney now noticed the early stages of darkness. 

The saturation of clouds that were presently accumulating overhead, hurried the inevitable night, and also reminded her that it was almost time. With just over an hour and a half left, she slowly walked in the direction where she told Hinkey to meet her. 

Oblivious to her surroundings, Sydney mentally replayed tonight's plan over again. From what Sark told Sloane about Cuvee's building, scaling the roof to gain access inside was going to be the easiest part. Once inside, she had to completely rely on Sark to loop the surveillance, while he relayed to her the safest route to go. If everything went well, Dixon would have deterred the majority of security downstairs, disguised as a delivery driver. Then it was up to Sark to get her back out again. 

Sounded simple enough, as long as everyone involved followed through with his or her responsibilities. Feeling a slight tingle in her hands due to the bitter cold, Sydney cupped them over her mouth and exhaled, trying to produce some warmth. Each step she took through what seemed to be endless buildings, appeared to make the sky a bit darker. The thought could be frightening when you were in a strange country, but she wasn't the least bit scared. Although, this walk would be so much better accompanied by another. 

"You know, this really isn't the best time of night for an attractive woman to be walking alone."

Sydney couldn't help but let the enormous smile she felt inside, appear equally as large on her still covered face, hearing the sound of the familiar voice. She turned in the direction of it, noting a dark figure standing in a small, equally darkened alley. 

After implementing the old habit she had of scouring her surroundings for anything off, Sydney took a few steps closer, standing just within the shadow of the alley. She took her hands from her face, in order to get a better look. The palpitation of her heart escalated further at the sight of him. Simply dressed in all black clothing, finished off by a black stocking cap to match his similar black down jacket, he looked amazing, with such little effort. 

His eyes were just as remarkable as she remembered, so bright and wonderful. But instead of the ever-inquisitive iced, wide-eyed gaze that usually appeared at SD-6, she found a softer look, one that could even be considered playful. Even if she tried, she couldn't take the massive grin off her face. The element of surprise was a great attraction for her, and so far, he seemed to be the master of it. 

"Where's your young partner?" Sark inquired in a lightly teasing manner, obviously referring to Hinkey.

With only a few feet in-between them, Sydney's body seemed to be taking on the characteristics of a magnet, causing her hands to ache, craving another touch of his body. She restrained them, by placing both in her pockets. 

"Getting acquainted with the route," Sydney replied. "How long were you following me?"

The left corner of his mouth turned up, amused by her question. "What makes you think I was following you?"

Her smile brightened, due to her slight embarrassment. In their first few meetings, she never would have fathomed this side to him. Sure, most of that had to do with the fact that they had been at each other's throats. But given his cool, and somewhat demented demeanor at times, she was genuinely shocked to see the softness he had displayed in these past few weeks. 

Due to their seclusion, Sydney allowed herself to act somewhat flirtatious toward him. "Hmmm. So, you're here by what, a coincidence then?" 

She watched the other side of his mouth move, commencing to a full smirk. After a small chuckle, he took a step closer to her. "Perhaps." His eyes briefly shifted down to her lips, as he brought his gloved hand to her face. Slowly he began to bring his face down to hers, while softly rubbing his thumb over her cheek, until their beepers sounded off, in unison.

Stopping his motion a few inches before her face, he didn't continue. "Why am I not surprised?" 

Sydney laughed at their recurring misfortune, the 'inside joke' only they would get. "I'll go first." Keeping her eyes on him, she stepped away. Exiting the alley, her pace quick, she went on her way to meet Hinkey.

The warmness of her down jacket now missing, Sydney stood a block away from Cuvee's building, waiting for Sark to give her the green light. Promptly at ten, Sark rang through her earpiece. 

"I've got visual."

His words sprung her into action. As planned, she ran in the shadow of the tall building she had been waiting near. Knowing those same words also put Dixon into action Sydney did her best to keep the team on track. Once she had reached the entry point at the base of the building, she launched her cable to the roof. Ensuring it was secured, she hurriedly climbed the side of the building, ascending to the top in less than two minutes. 

"I'm up," Sydney relayed.

"He's almost in," Sark referred to Dixon, who was currently downstairs attempting to occupy some of the security. Sydney waited, every detail had to be covered in order to ensure the mission's success. 

"Now." Sark chimed through again, giving her the go ahead. 

Opening the non-functional vent on the roof, knowledge of the unused escape route gained by Sark, Sydney climbed down the metal tube, stopping at the first entry point. "Tenth floor." She informed Sark. 

"Good, it's clear." 

Sydney opened the entrance, quickly making her way to the stairwell. "Stairs."

"Clear."

Running as fast as she could, Sydney descended the empty stairwell in good time. Just as she reached the fourth floor, she heard a distance disturbance, followed by the activation of her earpiece. 

His voice sounding troubled, she heard Sark yell. "Hinkey, the front, now! Sydney, go back up."

Having already stopped, she turned around. "What's going on?"

"No time for questions, you need to get out of there, and quickly. Hinkey, get Dixon, now! I've got you covered up here." Through her earpiece, she heard the loudness of multiple gunshots. She concluded they were coming from Sark. Soon after the shots, there was silence again.

Heeding the warning, she took large steps back up the empty stairwell. A few floors down from where she was, she could hear the hustle of maybe ten or so people, headed her way. No time, or energy to explore her confusion toward the downstairs disturbance, Sydney reached the tenth floor again. Still hearing the sound of heavy footsteps, she scrambled to the top of the vent. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Sydney asked, once she reached cold air again. "Sark, can you read me?"

From behind, she heard his voice. Less disturbed now, but still peaked "Sydney, they shot Dixon." 

"They what?" Sydney exclaimed, shocked and obviously confused by the news. Sark had been two buildings over, the best place to keep surveillance, and still be close enough to be utilized. Due to the closeness of the structures, jumping them was a breeze. 

"Things looked fine, then all of a sudden." Sark didn't finish, but took a few steps closer "Twelve of them are headed this way."

"What the fuck are you doing here then? Dixon's been shot, I'm fine." Sydney pushed Sark to leave. "Go."

Sark grabbed her arm, dragging her closer to the edge of the building. "Dixon's en route to a friendly hospital. I ensured Hinkey got him out before meeting you."

"Are you sure Hinkey can handle this? I mean... I know his driving skills are above par..." 

Sark interrupted her as she babbled. "He has to handle it, since there was no other option."

With the reality of Dixon's injury finally sinking in, Sydney hesitated at first. "What the hell happened down there?"

"There will be time to talk, but now we need to go."

They heard the fumbling of the air vent Sydney just shut, and looked at each other. "My repelling cable..." She reached near her hip for it. 

Sark glanced over the edge of the building. An idea sparked, he grabbed her around the waist. "No time." 

Right as the vent was opened, Sark jumped off the edge with Sydney in tow. She immediately panicked over the free fall, since neither one them was secured to anything and below them was the hardness of concrete. Her first reaction was to close her eyes, the terror of the unknown seemingly endless space below her, was too much to stomach.

Just as she did, she felt the fall come to a hard end, but on a noticeably softer substance than she expected. She opened her eyes, but only momentarily as what immediately pained them felt like multiple grains of sand. After releasing her stale breath, she inhaled again, only to swallow the same substance, causing her to cough.

"Hide yourself, now." Sark yelled, just loud enough to hear her. She followed his instructions by immersing herself. In the distance, she heard a few gunshots ring out. One even hit the metal of the industrial truck she assumed they had hitched a ride on. 

After what seemed to be only a few minutes, Sydney emerged from the landing pad she believed to be sod. In the darkness, she could see the area next to her move. At the sight of his now black tinted hair, and blackened face, she suddenly felt self-conscious about her own appearance. 

"Are you okay?" Sark asked, breaking the silence. His voice was slightly desperate, giving hints of concern. 

Sydney moved her body out of the dirt, and felt a sharp pain shoot up her leg. Immediately she brought her hand down, wrapping it around her ankle. "Yeah," she began. "My ankle. I think it's sprained."

"The next stop this thing makes, we'll have to jump." Sark's brow narrowed, showing his apprehension in forcing her taking the leap. 

"I'll be okay," she reassured him. Physically yes, Sydney knew she would be fine after a few days, but her thoughts were consumed by the unknown status of Dixon. This was the second time she had to go through an on the job injury with him. The first time was still etched in her mind. She wouldn't bring herself to question whether he survived, or the extent of the damage to his body. Trying to think positive, she was only allowing herself to explore the possibility of injury. 

What she really should be thinking about was the unknown status of what the hell she and Sark were going to do, now that they had lost their team, transportation and part of their communication


	13. Hard Work

Chapter 13 - 

It was all a bad dream. 

The phrase was stuck, looping in her head. She wanted so badly to believe that it was the truth, believe she wasn't really thousands of miles away from home, without any mode of transportation and with barely enough Crowns to pay for a room. More than anything wanting to believe one of the most important people in her life hadn't been shot. 

As Sydney glanced down at her frozen, dirt caked hands, she's reminded of the reality of her situation… This was not a dream.

Although it was near the modern part of city, the Vila Garni wasn't near as lavish as some of the hotels she had gawked at earlier that day. From the outside it was very plain – its façade comprised solely of evenly spaced rows of windows covering the dingy gray two-story building. It looked just like an inexpensive apartment complex. However, the aspects that were attractive were the location, the problem of her sprained ankle prevented her from walking a long distance, and the price, just within their combined budget. Both of them were aware that any non-secured contact with SD-6 could be detrimental, given the sensitivity of their situation. 

Without giving it a second thought, she agreed when Sark suggested, less than ten minutes ago, that he go inside to rent the room. Truly, she didn't have the energy to argue, not that she would have. She knew renting a room to a soiled man this time of night was more feasible than renting one to an equally filthy woman, who was walking with a limp. He could at least blame his appearance on manual labor, if need be. 

As Sydney peeked around from behind the building, she was relieved at the sight of Sark, emerging from inside the hotel. Her immobility in the freezing cold, for the past ten minutes or so, caused her to cringe when she placed pressure on her swelling appendage. She recognized the need to elevate it soon or tomorrow would be hard to bear. 

"There's no customary way you can get in there without being seen." He must have noticed her pain, since she could hear the concern in his voice. 

"Where's the room?"

Sark glanced up, "Right above you, the top floor." Sark looked to his right, at the tree conveniently situated close to the window of the room. 

"I can do it," Sydney replied, reading his mind. Sark softly smiled at her before turning around to go back to the entrance, reassuring her that things are fine, at least for the moment. 

Knowing it was going to take a lot out of her, Sydney began to climb the tree. Every time she placed any pressure on her injured ankle, she stifled a cry. Being shot in the shoulder was extreme, the metal ripping through flesh burned and ached, but to lose full strength of a regularly utilized body part was more of a hindrance. If it weren't for the strength she had in her arms, it would almost be an impossible task. 

When Sydney reached the branch that was located near the window Sark referred to, she slid her way over, and then waited for him to assist with the rest. Not long after, the room light was turned on, and she saw a shadowy figure through the curtains, standing before the window. Within seconds, Sark opened it, extending a hand. 

Once she was inside, he wrapped his arm around her waist, servicing as her crutch. Although her ankle throbbed, and the jolting pain that ran up her leg each time she hopped should have been consuming her, Sydney found it was his nearness that was intoxicating. Normally she was not the type of person that needed to be coddled, but she was willing to make an exception this time.

After sitting her on the bed, Sark walked to the small refrigerator to check for ice. "You might want to use those pillows…" he broke his sentence as he saw her already stacking the pillows under her leg. 

His comment was genuine. Knowing it, Sydney smiled, showing him that she appreciated his concern. Sark's cheeks flushed slightly. It was the first time she had seen him somewhat embarrassed, even if it was just a small amount. This kind of behavior was not his first nature, unlikely even his second, and he could be considering it a compromise to his reputation. 

He walked back to where she was located, bringing a bag of ice. "Here." He gently placed it on the obvious lump that had formed. "Did you need anything else? I think they had some warm beverages downstairs."

"No, not right now at least." Sydney stared at his hands, which were still holding the ice bag on her ankle. "Are you going to try and get a hold of Hinkey?"

Sark almost seemed to have forgotten about what happened earlier. "Right." He stood, removing his hands from her. "I'll be back, soon." Sark left her to nurse her wound. 

On the outside, the quarters appeared to be grimy. Inside, to her surprise, was a different story. The room was small, but the simplicity of the design, turned it to quaint. Wood paneling on the ceiling enhanced even the standard white walls, accented by an Asian flat rug. True, the wall was an odd place to hang a rug, but for some reason, it worked. The double bed had a fresh appearance, the light blue comforter thrown over it, looked brand new. Part of her wanted to just curl up and go to sleep, escape the now, but with Sark leaving fifteen minutes ago to call Hinkey, she couldn't. Well, at least until he came back with the news, and most importantly, she washed this dirt off of her. 

Tired of waiting, Sydney decided to start a shower. After turning the knob to warm up the water, she immediately stood in front of the mirror, the first time she had done so tonight. Her appearance was appalling, her hair strewn all over her blackened face, but fitting after what she'd been through. 

Seeing the steam as it rose behind her through the mirror, she removed her dusty clothing, and stepped in. She didn't stop the colossal sigh of relief that escaped her mouth. The hotness of the steady stream of water was absolutely refreshing and relaxing. 

Sydney took her time, moving around the small shower to ensure her entire body was massaged. Using a hefty amount of soap, she rubbed her entire body twice, washing the dirt away from her skin. For that moment, she forgot about it all, the failure, her ankle, and the uncertainty of her partner.

That was, until she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. The texture of the glass shower prevented her from seeing details, but the black garb was telling as to who it was. 

"I thought you'd want to know that Dixon is going to be alright." Sark informed her. "The shot went through his shoulder, causing no major damage."

Sydney smiled, relieved to have an answer to the question that had been ailing her, "That's good. Thanks for letting me know." She allowed the water to spray over her face, softly scrubbing off any remaining dirt with her hands. When she was done, she noticed Sark still standing in the bathroom. "Was there something else?" Sydney asked. Her voice cracked slightly, as she saw him taking off his shirt through the blurred shower.  

"You've been in there for over twenty minutes," Sark said nonchalantly. 

Sydney looked down at her fingers, which had more than wrinkled from the saturation. It didn't seem to her like twenty minutes. "Oh, I'm sorry." 

After turning off the water, she grabbed the white cotton towel she threw over the shower before she stepped in, and quickly dried herself off. The entire time, she kept her eye on Sark, who had now taken off his pants. Safely behind a closed door, she blushed. She couldn't see anything detailed, but she was well aware of what's waiting out there. 

With the towel now secured around her, Sydney stepped out. By then, Sark was in front of the mirror, wiping some of the dirt off of his face. Only taking a fleeting glance, Sydney blushed again. Even though it was brief, she caught sight of his broad, muscular shoulders, his tone lower back leading down to the bareness of his… Sydney stopped mid thought when Sark turned around to walk to the shower. Doing her best to casually avert her gaze from his naked body, Sydney attempted to limp her way past him. 

She didn't take more than two steps before she felt Sark's hand around her wrist. After momentarily looking down at it, she turned her attention up. Her nervousness was plainly revealed in her wide eyes. She felt her heart pounding so fiercely, any moment it could leap from her chest. Surprisingly, some of the anxiety subsided, when he placed his other hand just above her hip. The look in his eyes was one of warmth, but they still embodied that same menacing quality she was familiar with. 

While looking into them, she forgot about his nudity. She also barely noticed the streaks of dirt on his face that he had missed in his washing. All she could do was try to control the exhilaration her body experienced at the touch of his hand, as he placed it on her collarbone. Despite her best efforts, her knees almost went weak at his touch. She watched amusement flash across Sark's face, while he slid his hand down her shoulder. 

"It appears that I didn't get my hands entirely clean," he teased. 

Sydney felt the dirt when it was rubbed on her body, but she didn't care. She barely even heard him speak to her, due to the cloud of desire taking over her head. Completely ignoring him, and the dirt, Sydney acted on the urge by smoothing her hands up his chest. Once they reached the back of his head, she initiated their first connection. 

The complexity of her varying feelings – ranging from yearning to bring his body next to hers, to remnants of relief in the discovery that Dixon was indeed okay – brought forth a tinge of roughness as her lips connected with his. The rigorous action didn't deter Sark, it only seemed to entice him to explore the depths of her further. His hands, still lingering around her collarbone, inched up to cover her delicate neck. Matching her ferocity, he applied pressure around it, and as his dirty hands traced over her dewy skin, they left a trail of black.

Sydney tugged the hair on the back of his head, her lips consuming his. The delicate way their tongues brushed against each other was sending her deeper and deeper into a trance. Each stroke he took in her mouth was thrilling, causing her body to quiver. She remembered feeling this way when she was at his house, every inch of her aching to be with him. No momentum had been lost since then, for they seemed to be beginning right where they left off. 

Sark removed his hands from her neck and slowly slid them down to the area where her towel was secured. With one hand, he freed the constraint, exposing her beauty beneath. Her nakedness would normally be embarrassing and a bit breezy, but the touch of his hand, combined with his rough lips, was generating ample amounts of heat.

In one swift motion, Sark wrapped his arms around her waist, and then easily lifted her from the ground. Sydney hung onto him by throwing her arms around his neck. He walked the short distance to the shower, and then fumbled momentarily to turn it on. The stream of water that beat titillating against her body just minutes before was more so now, that he's with her.

In an effort to wash them both, Sark set her down again, in the direct path of the showerhead. She could feel the muddy water flow over her body, after it first cleansed his. Sark grabbed for the soap, and massaged it into suds all over her back. The hardness of the bar against her skin wasn't painful, but delighting, enhancing the tingle that had been mustering in her stomach. Sydney returned the favor, by taking it from him, slowly stroking his back. Purposely she dropped the soap, and finished the rest of his upper body with her hands. Both of them were completely in the moment, craving more of each other's touch. But none of this softened the intensity of the kiss they were sharing, or cooled the fieriness building between them. 

With most of the grime dispersed, Sark pushed her against the wall. He took his lips from hers, and she noticed a carnal gleam in his eyes when they made contact. It was only seen for a moment, for his mouth soon moved to her neck, where he probed her, savoring and sucking as he moved down to her chest. Sydney arched her neck, barely maintaining her composure during his exploration. Each kiss, or at times a light nibble, set her skin afire, and kept her breathing sporadic. 

He ventured down to her breasts, selfishly cupping both, before placing her left between his lips. His mouth was ravenous for a taste of her, and he demonstrated that by seizing her nipple with his teeth, then softly biting the tip. Sydney did little to muffle the intense cry that escaped from her. His mouth was so warm as he expertly slid her breast in and out. Every time his tongue circled the tip, her body tensed, causing her nails to dig into first his head, and then his shoulders. After he had finished with her breast, he kissed his way back up to her neck. He fumbled again, this time while turning off the water. 

They stood in silence, their faces only inches away from each other. Sydney's heart was still beating rapidly from their passionate exchange, and her body now, more than ever, was flushed with heat. Words had no meaning to her. Truthfully, even if she made her finest effort, nothing coherent would spring from her. His escalated breathing showed her that he was thinking the same. 

With what sounded like a throaty growl, Sark bent down to wrap his arms around the back of her knees. Sydney allowed him to pick her up, and encased his waist with her legs. Noticeably softer now, Sydney kissed him, letting her tongue first circle his lips, as he carried her from the bathroom, consequently leaving a trail of water behind.  

When Sark reached the bed, he lowered to his knees, crawling to the head. After softly placing her there, he pulled the switch on the lamp. The curtain was still open, and the now cloudless sky gave him the light he needed to admire the exquisiteness of her nudity. He ran his hand up the curve of her hips, smoothing over her waist and then up to her rib cage. The lightness of his touch tickled, causing her to twitch. 

As she looked into his eyes, she could see the glow of desire in them. She understood. Ever since their first dance in Buenos Aires, she had imagined this. She probably did even before that. Now that they were here, it felt surreal. But this wasn't a dream. Her second reminder of tonight's reality began when she slid her hands up his back, over his shoulders, and then to his face. A small trace of missed dirt was transferred from her hands, to his face. 

Sydney smiled, her eyes filled with playful laughter. "You're dirty."

"I think that remains to be seen, Sydney." His look was serious, but his voice was smooth and sultry. 

She flashed him a suggestive look, playing off his comment, until he kissed her upper chest and moved his lips slowly down her body. Her back arched automatically, and her eyes closed, when his lips reached just below her stomach. Again with the teasing, Sark moved his tongue along her bikini line. The wetness he left behind grew cold with exposure. Her hands were driven down to grab at his hair when she felt the tickle of his breath nearly inside her. 

Just when she thought she couldn't take the suspense any longer, he swiftly parted her nether lips with his tongue, licking the entirety between them. Unable to control her movements or speech, her body convulsed, and a thundering moan was shot from her. It had been so long since she'd felt sexual pleasure from another, and she was craving much more. 

Sark stopped with that one intrusion and moved to her inner thigh. He alternated licks and kisses until he had reached just under her bent knee. She watched his eyes switch to her face, wanting to see her reaction when he lined her inner thigh with his tongue, ending back up at the area he just left. 

Sydney's eyes closed involuntarily, and her fingers clutched the blanket under her, as Sark re-entered the sensitive area. His tongue was more determined now than the first time, as it circled around her clitoris, sending shockwaves through her. The sweltering rush that consumed her body with each round was euphoric, and her need for him continued to increase. 

Then he entered her, his tongue penetrating her soft tissue, delving into her augmenting wetness. Sydney let out a soft hum, captivated by him. To her further delight, he caressed the inside, creating additional moisture. When he was finished, he made his way back up her body, taking periodic nibbles of her. Her body was calling for him, screaming while it shivered from the ecstasy she was experiencing, with each bite he took of her skin. 

Sark stopped. His face was just above hers. Gently, he moved a few stray hairs that were clinging to her mouth. He must recognize the madness that was in her eyes, for he took her hand down to his full erection. A gesture that divulged to her that he had the same passion surging through him. 

To his surprise, Sydney didn't remove her hand from him. Instead, she tightened her grip and tugged at his swollen penis. She kept eye contact to mock him, wanting to test his reaction just as he had done to her. Her gratification came as he failed to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. Just as he had learned, she understood having the upper hand had its advantages. Before she could revel in it, Sark's lips crushed hers, manhandling them. As she ran her thumb over his head, smearing the small amount of secretion, Sydney took one last jerk of him, causing him to quietly groan. The sound muffled by her mouth. 

His lips continued to be harsh. At times his teeth knocked against hers or clamped down on her lip, causing injury she wouldn't feel until tomorrow. His tongue was equally ruthless, as it spread the taste of her inside. Sydney didn't mind, since it only seemed to intensify her intoxication. With one hand, he pulled the majority of her hair, arching her neck. Taking his lips from hers, he lowered them to her neck, and tried to calm down. 

Any nervousness she felt from her lengthy abstinence was washed away by the thirst she had to finally be with him. Knowing now she was entirely ready for this, for Sark, she told him. 

"I need you in me." Spoken just above a whisper, but real just the same. 

Her words were enough to stop him as he was ravishing her neck. Pausing for a moment, he looked at her with a hint of adoration. Tenderly, he kissed her lips with no infiltration. His gaze still on her eyes, he slid himself near her entry. At first, he barely sunk the tip of his head into her, grazing the area his mouth skillfully worked earlier. He wanted to watch her, looking for a sign that contrary to what was just said, she wasn't really ready for this. 

That sign didn't come. But when he slid it in again, she purposely grabbed his ass to push him in all the way. Sounding off in relief, they combined their voices in a single moan. Her tight entry was obviously pleasing to him. 

"God… Sydney." Sark breathed near her ear, before reuniting with her lips.

This was what she wanted – all that she needed right now – the feel of him inside her. Starting off slow, he worked himself in and out of her. He savored the sensation of her gap, which fit him just right. The same could be said for her. She knew he was only taunting that day, when he told her that he would have been so good, but he was truthful. The way he moved in her was thrilling, and she felt it all the way down to her toes.

As the thrusts increased in speed, so did the sensitivity to the area he had filled. Her breathing was more than jagged now, as was his, nearing a pant. Their movements were equally irregular. Both of their bodies were sticking together, slapping from the sweat that had been generated between them. Sydney tried to time her hips to match his, and keep him digging deeper and deeper in her. 

Nearing his end, Sark took his lips from hers and buried his head in her neck. He moved to her collarbone, gnawing on her skin, a poor attempt at suppressing any noise. Just as close to hers, Sydney gradually pulled harder on his hair, wanting to hear anything from him. Wanting to know he shared the same erotic feeling that had devoured her. 

Then it came, or she did. She felt the orgasm building. Each time he grazed her walls, the tingle increased. Her breath was short in his ear, and she whimpered, telling him of her upcoming pleasure. The sound of her voice drove him to move faster and harder, wanting to feel the flex of her muscle as she released. He didn't have to wait long for her, within a minute he heard her gasp, along with her insides contracting over his engorged penis. The feeling was so intense that he was unable to keep from doing the same. Allowing another growl to escape from his lips, he spilled himself inside of her, leaving his pleasure to mix with hers. 

And then there was stillness, not quiet -- the sound of heavy breathing, and hearts pounding filled the silence. When he came, his fulfilled body collapsed on top of her, and was now unable to move. Sydney didn't want him to. Having him on her, and inside her still was a comfort she wished to prolong. He twitched slightly, but only to kiss her shoulder one last time. 


	14. Actions of a Lover

Chapter 14 - 

For the first time in weeks, Sydney woke up rested and relaxed. Her comfort partially stemmed from the safeness she felt in Sark's embrace.  

The vivid dreams, the ones that had constantly plagued her most nights, were absent. After Sark lightly kissed her shoulder, it only took five minutes for Sydney to drift off into a deep slumber. She didn't have the chance to relish in the love that they had shared, and neither did he. She could tell from the sound of his breathing, that he fell just after his release in her. It was the steadiness of his breathing that had gently rocked her to sleep. 

The quickness of her sleep and the dreamless night, were both signs of her comfort. Sark was wonderful, and not just in his lovemaking. The way he looked at her, read her the past few days was eerie; he knew exactly what to do or say to fulfill her physically and emotionally. Then he followed through, with every bit of the suaveness that she'd imagined would be present.  

Sometime in the middle of the night, their bodies changed places on the bed, but even that didn't stir her. Feeling his nakedness behind her, and his arm thrown around her waist as she stirred, a shift was obvious. 

One look at the room revealed what had transpired last night. The heap of black clothing, with one white towel as contrast, was still in a pile after sitting overnight on the bathroom corner. The slightly dirty water that Sark had trailed from the shower, left footprint sized stains on the tan carpet. Of course the most telling was the two of them, still in the bed, a white sheet barely covering their naked bodies. 

With the new morning barely lighting the room, Sydney was still. She had been awake for some time, but was listening to the man behind her, trying to determine whether he was awake or not. His breathing was deep, but steady, signs that he was still asleep. She's slightly relieved, as she was just beginning to experience the nervousness expected the morning after. Yet she allowed a smile to form on her face as she thought about what they did last night. 

She felt pain between her legs – a bittersweet reminder of him. She wouldn't call it unpleasant, just an ache from the way his hips dug into her inner thighs. Besides, when she slowly rose from the bed, standing for the first time in quite a few hours was when she felt real pain. Right when she put weight on her injured leg, she shrieked and immediately returned to sitting on the bed. 

She felt a mild disturbance from behind her. "Ankle?" Sark asked, his voice a bit groggy. 

"Yeah," Sydney responded. She brought her ankle closer and surveyed the damage. The outside had an egg-sized lump that was beginning to turn black and blue. "I didn't keep it elevated."

"Well not for long, that is," Sark said flirtatiously. 

Sydney turned her head to face him. Any anxiety she felt over their pending morning interaction was washed away by that one statement, and the playful look she found on his face. She didn't stop the smile that sprung to her face, because he earned it. Sark skimmed his fingers over her bare shoulder, and pulled her hair behind her ear to view her entire face. 

Instead of removing his hand, he wrapped it around a large chunk of her hair, while tenderly pulling her down to him. His lips were kind, which was good. Her mouth was mildly swollen – another reminder of their passion from the night before. Sydney rejoined him in the bed, swinging her leg over his hip to straddle his sheet-covered lap. Sark grabbed the comforter from beside him and covered her with it, using it to pull her closer against him. 

The passion between them was nowhere near the level of last night. Their kisses were light and teasing, reenacting the post-coital action that should have taken place before they fell asleep. Sark ended the kiss by placing his hands around her face, and pushing her away. 

"Hinkey will be downstairs in less than a half hour," Sark informed her. "I need to run down and get our clothes."

Sydney kissed him one last time before rolling back off of him. "Back to reality." Sydney flatly commented.

Sark ran his finger down the curve of her neck, ending at her shoulder. Amusement flashed across his face for a moment, as he was staring at the invisible line that he had just traced. "I see your neck didn't take the brunt of my teeth too well." 

"You're kidding me," Sydney joined in the laughter. It had been so long since she had to deal with a hickey. At least the past few years, she had learned about covering her wounds; a hickey shouldn't be too different. "Well, my lips didn't either." Sydney placed her fingers on the wounded pair, covering the few cuts that had formed. 

Sark lightly kissed them, careful to not cause any further irritation. The smile that he offered was caked with mischief, he had no regrets and whether he could tell or not, neither did she. Not even bothering to cover himself, he climbed out of bed, and walked to the bathroom to start the day. 

Everything went smoothly that morning. She happily changed into the light blue sweat suit that she brought, along with her most comfortable pair of tennis shoes. Sark was a little less casual, wearing jeans and a dark taupe sweater. To preserve their cover, he left the room ten minutes before to meet Hinkey. 

In the bathroom, Sydney placed her hair up in a sloppy bun and lightly wet her lips with the clear gloss she loved. Using the wooden cane Sark provided her with, she finally limped her way out of the hotel. 

"Man you look like hell," Hinkey blurted out at first sight of Sydney in the rearview mirror. "Did you get clocked in the mouth or something?" 

Sydney kept from laughing or smiling, although she really wanted to do both. "Something like that." Quickly, she changed the subject. "Where's Dixon?"

Sark began before Hinkey could, "He's being brought to the airport by ambulance. Sloane ensured me that an equipped, private plane would be waiting for us." 

"Dude," Hinkey started, "you should've seen all the shit that came out of his arm. I spent a good two hours scrubbing it off the black leather." Sydney shook her head, trying to keep from responding. "And I had no clue about the night life here – completely off the hook. The chicks here will do…"

Sark interrupted him, "No need to offer any details. I'm sure we're all aware of what some women will do here." 

"Right." Sounding a bit uncomfortable with Sark's tone, Hinkey stopped. They continued on to the airport, in complete silence. 

In the very back of the plane was a separate room closed off by curtains. Knowing Dixon was in there, Sydney hobbled to the back to greet her partner and friend. Her relief was evident as she pulled back the curtain and first saw his sleeping form. When she slid her hand down the curtain to close it again, she heard him stir.

"Syd?" 

"Yeah Dixon, it's me." Sydney spoke at a whisper. 

Dixon turned his head in her direction and smiled. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Sydney smiled back as she stepped into the room. "I was going to say the same thing about you. How are you feeling?"

He cringed as he tried to move, his arm was completely bandaged and wrapped in a sling. "Good, considering. How about you? I was terrified that they had gotten to you too."

"No, I'm fine," she sat right next to him and held his good hand. "Just a sprained ankle is all." 

"I'm glad to hear that." Dixon whispered, as his eyes flutter momentarily.

Sydney stood and grabbed her cane, "I'll let you get some rest." She bent over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."

"Thanks Syd," Dixon quietly spoke before allowing his eyes to close. 

When she came back to the main area of the plane, she found Hinkey sprawled out on the left couch and Sark sitting on the right, working on his laptop. With no other option, she sat next to Sark, also pulling out her computer. 

After working side by side in silence for the first few hours, Sydney shut her laptop and instead pulled out some last minute work for school. The small amount of noise that was produced, in the process, woke Hinkey. 

"Hey, do you guys think they'll let me in the cockpit?" Hinkey asked, breaking the silence. 

Sark didn't look up from his computer when he answered. "It's not unheard of on flights like these. "

"Cool. Since, I'm not needed back here and all." Hinkey walked toward the cockpit, leaving them alone.

Completely engrossed in her reading, it took a few minutes before she noticed Sark had stopped typing and was staring at her. She finished the paragraph and smiled.

"What?" Her voice was quiet, to ensure Dixon didn't hear. 

With his signature smirk, he kept the same quiet she started. "Nothing."

"Well you need to stop the nothing, before Hinkey takes notice." Sark laughed at her comment. "Besides, I'm getting some important work done here." Sydney joked. 

"Continue on, Miss Bristow." Sark leaned against the back of the couch, still watching her. Around ten minutes later, Sydney noticed his eyes had now closed. She continued her reading, hoping to finish by the time they reached the States. 

"Well isn't that sweet."

Those four words jolt her awake. She looked around the room: couch, table, and computer, Hinkey with a kinky smile… and Sark. Behind her, being used as her pillow. And most embarrassing, his arm was protectively wrapped around her stomach. 

_Dear God._

Playing it cool, Sydney sat up. "I must have fallen asleep." Not long after she moved, Sark woke up. "Are we here already?"

Unaware of the significance of what he had just witnessed, Hinkey dismissed it. "Yup. Back in bright and shiny L.A."


	15. Home Sweet Home

Chapter 15 - 

The drive home from the airport seemed to fly by. Most times, this same ride was spent rehearsing what she was going to say to Sloane if the mission failed due to the CIA's interception. This time, the failure was true, and no explanation was needed. Given that, she allowed her thoughts to venture back to last night. Just thinking about it made her stomach flop, along with a few tingles in some unnamed areas. It was going to be hard to face him in the office without wanting to picture what she had seen underneath those expensive, perfectly tailored suits. 

The thought still made her blush. With her mind elsewhere, it was a good thing she's frequently here. She had driven this route so many times that once she hit the Interstate, autopilot kicked in and lead her the rest of the way home. It was quite dangerous, but it's another thing she had perfected. Still in deep thought, she jumped at the sound of her CIA cell phone ringing. After fumbling with her earpiece, she situated it in her ear. 

"Bristow." 

"Agent Bristow," the voice was at first unrecognizable, but after a moment it registered. "We were hoping you could swing by once you've had a chance to settle in."

Having only met her new handler a handful of times, she still had yet to get his tones or actions right. Reading new people was something she had a talent for, but only after the first stages of awkwardness had waned. 

"I need a new way to access, I sprained my ankle in Prague." Sydney informed him. 

"Fine, I'll get back to you in five." Benedict ended the call. The middle-aged man was friendly and professional. So different than her previous, but exactly what she had requested. She kept the earpiece in her ear for the follow-up call. 

After an extra long detour, Sydney was safe inside the CIA. She finished her conversation with Benedict over twenty minutes ago, and was now making the same walk she made before she left for Prague. For some reason, it had been decided that she should talk to her mother again. The CIA was interested in making a preemptive strike against SD-6 accessing the Echelon, and in the process, shutting down the access Cuvee had. 

Still using the cane given to her by Sark, she limped the rest of the way to Irina's cell. A look of concern washed over her mother's face, at first sight of her daughter. Still feeling the elation over all that she went through, she faced her mother with a legitimate smile. 

"Hi." Sydney greeted her mom. Her initial demeanor was so different from the last time she had been here. 

Noticing the change, Irina cautiously smiled in return. "From the look on your face, I take it the job in Prague was a success."

Sydney looked down at her shoes for a moment, then back up at her mother. "No, it wasn't. We need your help."

Ignoring her, Irina asked her own questions. "Were you shot?"

"Oh, no. It's just a sprained ankle." Sydney paused while translating the look in her mother's eye. "I was interrupted before I could get to the computer."

"Sark."

Her single accusation choked Sydney. Again she said just his name. The deduction that the failure had to do with Sark came straight out of left field. Her attempt at covering up her reaction was weak. Completely blindsided, she reminded herself to breathe deeply and do it now. 

Forcing the words, she stammered, "Wh-… no." Sydney's eyes broke contact, showing she was uncomfortable. 

_Breathe_

"I'm supposed to talk to you about the layout of Cuvee's warehouse, where his access is stored." Sydney finally gathered enough thought to form a sentence. 

She looked at her mom, and found a changed in her look. She must have seen something in her daughter, something that she probably never would have discovered, unless a moment like this took place. Irina turned her back to Sydney and walked to the single chair in her room. 

"Have someone bring me the tools and I'll map the access," the coldness in her voice was evident. 

Not wanting to compromise herself further, Sydney turned to leave. At the sound of her cane accidentally hitting the glass, Irina turned to look at her again. If she was not mistaken, Sydney saw a look of disappointment flash in her mother's eye, a look that caused her heart rate to skyrocket.

_She can't know. There's no way._

Noting it, Sydney made her exit. "Thank you for the information." She finished her walk to the secured door. Before she exited, Sydney heard her mother call out.

"Sydney, please be careful."

Sydney stopped, only a moment for the door to open. Keeping her attention forward, she left her mother, without looking back.

Home sweet home. Finally, the chance to actually relax in the comfort of her collected surroundings. First thing, she threw her sweat suit jacket on the dining room chair, leaving her in just a thin-strapped tank top. She limped into her kitchen, heading straight over to the freezer, and the ice her ankle had been crying for. After filling up a large bag, Sydney walked over to plop herself on the couch. 

Her couch was just as comfortable as she remembered, and once she was situated, she released a heavy sigh. She always felt tense after visiting her mother, but this time it was more so. Implying Sark had something to do with their failed mission, something to do with Dixon being shot? It couldn't be true. 

What motivation would he have for this? He made the same effort on this as everyone at SD-6 did, if not more. Sloane's trust was something that he seemed to want to gain, not lose. All of this doubt surfacing after one word spoken by her mother. Lost in her own confusion, and not expecting either roommate home for a few more hours, she didn't hear her front door open. Why did she allow her mother to stress her out to a certain degree, each time she visited her. 

"Sydney Bristow!"

Hearing Francie's voice, Sydney instantly opened her eyes, indeed finding her roommate hovering over her. 

"What the hell happened to your ankle?" Her concern was clear by the shriek of her voice.

Keeping her leg elevated, she used her elbows to sit up a bit more. "I fell down the stairs of my hotel. You wouldn't believe how embarrassing it was."

Francie crossed her arms across her chest, and her face gradually became more animated. "Really? Well, what about the poor cover-up job on that _huge_ war wound on your neck? Did you also get that falling down the stairs?" 

_Fuck_

Another monumental mistake made and she really wanted to curse aloud. The make-up job to cover up her neck that morning was sufficient, but then again, that area was conveniently hidden by her jacket. By now, the make-up must have worn off. There was no way around this one. Sydney smiled at her, watching the amusement spread over Francie's face. 

"Did you finally hook up with Michael?" She asked, innocently. The question didn't sting, although it should have. It was just recently she told Francie about her former crush, partially to get her off her back about how unhappy she had appeared lately. 

No faltering in her cheerfulness, Sydney slowly answered the question. "No, but I met someone."

Francie's mouth dropped, as she sat on the back of the couch. "You met someone and got a hickey in just over a day? You little slut!" 

Sydney joined in Francie's laughter, and smacked her on the thigh. "Hey, I remember a one night stand or two leaving your room, pouty faced, and tails between their legs."

"Whatever, stones are easy to throw." 

Sydney shut her eyes again, "Exactly."

"So is he hot? What does he do? Where's he from?" Francie did her best at probing her friend.

Quick thinking was the key, along with limited information. In her years, she had managed to master both. "Yes. Banking. Somewhere overseas." Francie opened her mouth to speak again, but the phone rang. 

"Don't move." She ran to the phone to answer. 

"Very funny." Sydney mumbled, while brainstorming for more ideas on what to tell Francie when she eventually finished her interrogation. Coming back in the room, phone in hand, she sat back down. 

"Hey Will, you'll never guess what Sydney came back with." Francie hinted through the phone.

Immediately, Sydney's eyes widen, and she motioned to Francie to not say anything. Francie appeared to be confused at first, but Sydney pleaded with her eyes. Not Will, please not Will. She smirked at the request, but still honored it.

"A sprained ankle." Francie covered the phone with her hand and mouthed, _'You poop'_, before heading back into the kitchen. "Yeah, it looks completely awful."

_The fewer people that know, the better off I'll be._

Relieved that one less lie needed to be told to the one person who would have the most adverse reaction to her sleeping with Sark, Sydney lay back down on the couch. Her life had taken yet another step in the direction of sheer complication. 


	16. The Longest Day

Chapter 16 – 

Her night was uneventful. She spent most of it with one leg up on the end of the couch changing bags of ice every hour or so. She didn't even want to think about unpacking anything right now – she could worry about that later. For now, she was enjoying some quality girl time with Francie. 

In between bags of fresh ice, Sydney gave Francie the half-truths about her night with the overseas stranger. Every time she stretched the truth, the term she used to better accept the fact that she had to lie, she lost a small part of her normalcy. After years of doing this same thing, it was a wonder she had anything left to lose inside. But she continued to do it, time and again to keep everyone around her safe. 

As far as Francie was concerned, her hook-up's name was Aidan – she never asked his last name. Aidan worked in her same area of banking, but was based out of Paris. His visit to the states, which coincidentally ended the same day that hers did, was due to a former business tycoon whose financial state suffered immensely from the fall of the stock market. 

To satisfy Francie's need for a visual, Sydney gave her the best description of the man. At least she could be honest when it came to that. About six feet tall, beautifully warm blue eyes, his dark blonde hair was a tad mussed, giving him the look of a businessman who thrived off a challenge and loved adventure. All of that was almost of no notice for it was his voice that immediately caught her attention, as she was waiting for her meeting to begin. His accent was smooth, spoken through a set of perfectly pale pink lips. 

He was very successful in what he did, his expensive business suits and accessories were telling of that. His confidence and professional demeanor enhanced his winning appearance, and almost made him appear unapproachable to her. But she didn't need to approach him, since he did that all on his own. 

"He offered you a ride back to your hotel in his private car?" Francie asked, her grin taking over her face.

"Well it was close to freezing outside, and I had been waiting for a good five minutes for a cab. So he walked up behind me to offer. Who am I to turn that down?" Sydney answered.

Francie picked at the last few pieces popcorn she made, enjoying her night's entertainment. "And he was staying at the same one as you."

Sydney smiled and continued to tell her the story. The fact they were staying at the same hotel was only the beginning of the conversation. Once they found out they were in the same business, they had much more to talk about. Their initial conversation lasted the entire ride, about a half hour. Then she offered to pay for dinner, a kind gesture to repay him for the ride. Dinner led to drinks, drinks led to dancing and the rest… well she did leave out most of the real details about what happened after that. She told her just enough to prove the end result of a hickey. 

"Awww, Syd. He sounds so lovely, but what about anything in the future? Did he give you a number to call?" Francie's question brought a staged bittersweet smile to Sydney's face. 

"You know that long distance relationships never work," Sydney started. "The likelihood of us meeting up again is small, very small."

The story she told had probably been captured in a few romance novels or even a movie, but a small part of her wished what was transpiring with Sark was close to what she had just described. Well besides the long distance part of it – she found comfort in knowing that he was near. The inability to go public with the feelings they shared was going to be difficult, and hiding them around the people that really counted would be more so. 

Somewhat satisfied with Sydney's story, Francie stood with her empty bowl, and walked over to her. She paused for a moment before sweetly speaking to her, "You'll find it again someday." Sydney smiled at her friend. Even more than a year after Danny's death, everyone still seemed to tiptoe around the "love" department when talking to her. Her feelings were no longer fragile when it came to that. So much had happened since then, but she couldn't really tell anyone about it. 

Fridays could be the best day of the week, and this one didn't disappoint at first, not one bit. It had been a long, emotional week and Sydney was looking forward to a weekend of rest and relaxation Luckily it decided to come early for her. 

Early in the day Sydney sat at her desk, using her file cabinet to elevate her ankle. Staring at her computer while lost in thought, Sydney jumped when a hand was placed on her shoulder. When she turned, she found Sloane standing right behind her, a soft smile on his face. 

"How's the ankle, Sydney?" His concern always sounded so genuine, but anything post Danny that came out of his mouth was completely irritating. 

She smiled back, "It's fine, or it will be in a few days."

"Since there's not much for you to do here that can't be done from home, feel free to leave at lunch." Sloane removed his hand from her shoulder and began to walk away. "We'll need you well rested for next week."

Although she detested the man, the good news brought a smile to her face. "Thank you, I'll make sure I'm ready to go." After he left, Sydney looked at her clock, less than an hour to go. Without Dixon, her father or Sark in the office today, it had been very uneventful. The news of an early out brought new hope for a better day. 

At home with nothing to do but unpack and elevate her ankle, Sydney changed into a t-shirt and running pants and began to leisurely pull things out of her suitcase. Such a tedious job usually, but with only a carryon, it was almost nothing. Deep in her room, she barely heard the knock on her front door. 

With her cane back in the living room, she limped her way to the door. Without thinking, she didn't look before opening it. The sight at her front door immediately alarmed her. She looked around outside for anyone that may be watching.

"Vaughn, what are you doing here?" She quickly stepped out of the way to let him in. This was a very risky move. Not only did she tell him to not contact her again, he showed up unannounced at her front door. At least he was disguised as a plumber, but with the technology SD-6 used, it's still extremely dangerous. 

She watched as he walked into her apartment, taking in the atmosphere. This was the first time he had seen her place, and was probably comparing it to what he'd imagined. The serious look on his face brought his wandering to an end.

"Sydney, we really need to talk." His voice was quiet, and a bit husky.

Trying her best to keep her composure, Sydney kept her tone low also. "I thought that I made it clear last time that we don't need to talk." 

"Well that was before Prague." His eyes pierced into her, causing her to flinch.

At a loss for words, Sydney stammered, "H-how did you know I was in Prague?" 

Well sure, he still worked for the CIA, but it would take some effort to find out where she had been sent. He averted his gaze from her, uncomfortable with the start of their conversation. A bit hesitant to continue, he paused to gather his thoughts. 

"Your father came to me."

"My father what?" Sydney interrupted him, her voice raised.

Vaughn continued his thought. "He told me that he was concerned about you and what was going to happen while accessing Cuvee's warehouse, and asked me for a personal favor."

"And what sort of favor would that be?" Sydney asked, still pissed.

Vaughn rested against her breakfast bar. "He asked me to have someone keep an eye out for you." He said it quietly, almost fearing her reaction. 

Rightly, Sydney felt choked up by the invasion of privacy and the betrayal. She told her father there was no need to worry, and to go to Vaughn of all people to keep tabs on her. It just wasn't right. Again she had a hard time finding the words, and her anger grew with each moment of silence that went by between the two of them. 

"I don't _need _anyone, but my team, to keep an eye out for me when I'm out in the field." Sydney spat. 

His anger also rising, Vaughn yelled back. "Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean am I sure about that. I'm not a child, I'm very capable of taking care of myself and know exactly what I'm doing."

Vaughn eyed her, caught by the last part of her statement. "Do you know what you're doing?" His voice was filled with such bewilderment. "Do you fully understand what you're getting yourself into?"

The look on his face told her that he knew something. In her anger, she didn't even once think about the person who was watching her finding anything of substance. Sydney felt an ache gathering in her gut, the nervousness causing a cramp. 

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was much quieter now, barely able to get those few words out.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Sydney." Vaughn narrowed his eyes at her, his disgust showing. "I can't believe you would let a man of his worth anywhere near you." Vaughn threw three black and white photos of them in the alley in Prague. The near kiss that had been interrupted by their beepers was replayed by what was laid before her. 

Her defenses were rising again at his crudeness, and Sydney tried to show her backbone. "You have no right to invade my personal life. I get it from SD-6 everyday and now I have to take it from the CIA?"

"Well, you're lucky. I have yet to determine whether the CIA sees any of this." 

Sydney was slightly relieved knowing the CIA wasn't wise to her and Sark. Her demeanor cooled, as did Vaughn's as they stood in more silence. She was afraid to ask, but needed to know.

"What about my father?"

The CIA and SD-6 were of less value when it came to what she cared about. She had been happy with the turn her relationship with her father took after she became CIA. His disappointment would be unbearable if he found out anything had transpired with Sark. 

"I have yet to bring it to his attention also." 

Sydney stopped looking at the photos and glanced back up at Vaughn. "You know this isn't right," Sydney spoke weakly. "I work my ass off for the CIA, for the betterment of everyone. My personal dealings shouldn't be of an issue." 

"Sydney," his voice was much more calm than before, "what are you doing? You've witnessed so much from that man, and you forget it just like that? You know I will always support you, but I simply don't trust him, and frankly I'm not sure what's going on in your head. This isn't like you, not the you I know."

No one would understand, no one knew what things were like between him and her. She couldn't explain to Vaughn the way he acted toward her as Julian Binoche in Buenos Aires. The first time they danced, the feelings that grew after the first time they had kissed. Nor could she give details on the Christmas gift she received, the New Year's kiss or what he did for her to ensure Sloane didn't find out about her meeting at the pier. 

To everyone, but her, Sark had no redeeming qualities and was worthy of none of their respect. She couldn't change how others felt, just like she couldn't change how she did. In time, that might change, but right now it was too soon. 

She didn't answer his question. She just looked down at her hands, and tried to keep the tears that were forming behind her eyes from falling. "I'm not letting anything come between my ultimate goal of bringing down SD-6. I will continue to work diligently to bring down Sloane, just as I always have." 

Although she didn't make mention of what she was doing with Sark, her plea to keep it secret touched him, and he brought his hand to her shoulder. "Sydney, I don't want to see you unhappy, but I also don't want to see you get hurt... or worse." He paused and moved his hand to her face. "I guess I just need to know that you're okay. Truly okay."

Sydney nodded her head yes. She couldn't bring herself to speak. It had been a long week that grew twice as long with this one conversation. Vaughn stepped forward to place a kiss on her forehead. She looked him in the eye when his face left hers, and found him smiling weakly. A reassurance of the trust he had in her judgment. 

"Syd – I cannot promise that I will keep this information from your father forever. I need some time to think about it." Vaughn left the pictures with her and picked up the rest of his things to leave. "Please, don't hesitate to call me if you ever need anything." Vaughn walked to the door, readying to exit. "Anything." He reiterated as he walked outside. 

Even though Vaughn stated that he needed to think about whether to tell her father about his findings in Prague, Sydney was sure he wouldn't. There was this look that Vaughn gave when he's talking to save face, and at the end of his speech that look was present. 

This relationship, for lack of an actual term to describe what she shared with Sark, could be damaging to both of their lives. Not only was it frowned upon in business, if the wrong people were to find out about the feelings that had grown between them, it could mean the end – literally. She sighed at that thought, the end of the one thing that had started her living again. She would do it. She'd continue to lie to anyone that needed to be lied to, even though she still lost that small piece of normalcy. For what was gained by those lies, seemed to add something greater back to her. She could be completely ruining everything, but it right now it seemed to be worth it. 

She took the photos to the shredder and rid her sight of them. Surprisingly, she felt relief in knowing someone else knew of this, and didn't respond too awfully to it. It almost gave her hope that others may follow suit. Almost. 

Her last bit of unpacking done, she grabbed her computer case to give it a quick clean. While digging through the pockets, she came across an unfamiliar small white piece of paper. Before discarding it, she opened it to read its contents. As she did, she smiled, and then very neatly, she placed it back in a hidden compartment. 

It was worth it. 


	17. The Weekend

Chapter 17 - 

Two tank tops with matching mini briefs, khaki Capri pants with a thin, off-white cap sleeved peasant like top and a few other essentials. She had spent nearly twenty minutes deciding on which items to pack. All had been selected based on the fact that they would take up little space.

Her rolling carryon was spacious compared to the medium sized leather backpack she had to use this time. Anything larger than that was really unnecessary, when she thought about it. It was only the weekend, after all and weekends always went by so fast anyway. 

After taking one last glance at her vehicle clock, Sydney retrieved said backpack from the backseat. According to the time, she still had fifteen minutes, but it was in her nature to be prepared. 

Out of habit or maybe due to nerves, she slid her fingers over her necklace. Loving the closeness of the gift and the sentiment it represented, she wore it often. It was almost as good as having him next to her, but nothing beat the real thing. 

Thinking about how all this began, Sydney allowed a small smile to form on her face. She had been so upset when she had first found out about the Buenos Aires op. She knew now that most of her reaction stemmed from her underlying attraction to Sark, but back then she fingered it as pure detest. How blind she was. 

A light sigh escaped as she shook her head slightly from side to side. Where would she be if the past month had never happened? No doubt she would have never witnessed the side to Sark that she had. Their daily fits of banter would exist of course, and he would still get under her skin, plus it would be likely that he would have the upper hand most of the time. But, this happiness that consumed her with one thought of him wouldn't live. She was well aware that to keep up appearances, some of that interaction would still need to come into play, but that was okay. It was part of her initial attraction. 

Another glance at the clock told her it was almost time to go. Her smile was still shining and stayed as she took out the small piece of white paper. She assumed it was dropped in her computer case before she left the plane. A few words had alleviated any doubt she might have felt about his feelings toward her.

_This weekend, I'm sure you remember the time and location._

_And Sydney…you can use the front entrance this time. _

She folded the paper back up and placed it back in the front pocket of her backpack. This was how it was going to be, perfectly timed arrivals and departures. As she said to herself earlier that night – it was worth it. 

She threw her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her cane and began her walk to his apartment building. The car that was sitting in front of his building had left a few minutes before, but the next car was due any minute. Slightly rushed, she opened the front door of the building and this time properly made her entrance. 

She knew the cameras were off for a moment, but she still kept her head down as she ascended the stairs. It was a good habit to have, and she doubted that she would ever sway from it. 

With each step that she took, her level of nervousness rose. She knew most of it was anticipation, but there was a tinge of fear mixed in also. Fear that something horrible was to come of all of this. Just like the dream she had in Buenos Aires. 

_You've captured my soul… and I can't let you keep it. _

Those words, although self produced, haunted her still. The imagined feel of his gun pressed against her ribcage was fresh, and even though it was only a dream, in the back of her mind she did fear that it might come true.  

Within seconds of her knock, she heard the click of the lock and saw the door slowly open. This was it. After this, there was really no turning back. As she came face to face with the source of her varying feelings, her relief was evident. One look at those eyes, the slightly crooked bottom lip, that became more so with a grin, and she was lost. 

Sark took a moment to admire her. She wore nothing special, just a pair of bootcut jeans and a thin ice blue sweater, but she could tell he was pleased with it. As he stepped back to let her in, she hesitated. The pause only lasted a moment, and then she made the leap into his apartment. She crossed the line. 

He came up behind her and slid his hands over her hips, while he brought his lips to her ear. Her eyes fluttered as the warmth from his hands penetrated through her jeans. She felt a tingle as his breath entered her ear. 

"Glad you could make it." His smooth voice not only set her ear afire, but raced through her body with an odd sensation that ended deep in her gut. 

Sydney smiled, and turned to face him. Their distance was better measured in inches. "It was an attractive offer, given the week that I've had." Her hands made their way up his chest as she spoke, driven by the need to touch him. 

They stood in silence, letting their actions speak for themselves. Sark brought his hand to her face, and then moved it, to lightly stroke her hair. His caress caused her eyes to close, until he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. 

"Your beauty can be crushing at times." 

Once her eyes had reopened, Sydney looked to his lips and watched as they inched closer. His movement was soft, but she felt the electricity immediately as it shot through her. Lightly, his lips brushed hers, until she wrapped her fingers in his hair, and pulled him closer. Her action was initially made so he would begin his exploration of her, and she hoped that it would cause the sensation, which had been upgraded to an ache, to disperse. 

She gave into him, completely. When his tongue lightly caressed the inside of her mouth, she became lost a second time. She could stand to feel this way forever and she purposely pushed back any thoughts of doubt that had been with her previously. 

Still intertwined, Sark pushed her backward and slowly started the walk to his bedroom. She didn't take notice of the dinner he had prepared, or the bottle of Merlot that had been opened moments before she arrived. The priority was silently agreed upon, and when they reached the bedroom, it took over the evening. 

Later that night as Sydney was in Sark's arms, she thought about the dangerous territory they were treading in. Although this felt so right, so much could go wrong. She remembered the look on her mother's face when Sark's name was mentioned. The man used to work for her, so the speck of loathing Sydney caught in her eyes was a complete surprise. It was obvious that something had transpired between the two, maybe so horrible that it drove him to help SD-6. 

She had already speculated about others feelings – her father, Will, and Sloane to name a few. None would be pleased with this relationship. But with time, if Sark were in this for the long haul, maybe attitudes would change. 

Sydney lifted her head from its position on his chest and looked at his face. His eyes were closed, and the tranquil look on his face was captivating. Although she was equally satisfied with the two rounds of lovemaking they had, her questions kept her from finding the same rest. She wanted so badly to know what he was hiding. What his plan was for all of this and if she was right, what he was running from. 

When she felt the tips of his fingers unconsciously rub her bare back, she placed her head back down, and continued to listen to the rhythm of his breathing. She knew she would enjoy the weekend for what it was, but she recognized that this was not going to be easy.

End of Part two – Part three called Inebriety. 


End file.
